A letter for Kome.

 To think that you are no longer here to tightly clasp my hand in yours and squeeze my arm with the other in sheer elation at the smallest piece of exciting news, whether yours, mine or someone else’s, is unthinkable. 

 When I think of you, it is not just your academic brilliance that comes to mind, which is vast and awe-inspiring, but all the ridiculous conversations we had. Often late into the night, pushing our chairs back to face one another in the aisle between our desks. I think of how we both were always cold, sharing the free-standing radiator with the shortest possible extension cord, making us sit huddled on either side of it to trap the heat from the tiny device in our vast office. Your purple crotchet shawl firmly around your shoulders.

 I chuckle at the thought of how you had the perfect ability to nap upright and how my poke would awaken you. The expression on your face when you tried Lavashak, and how when you ran out you’d ask if I had more, knowing very well that I always had a few of the wrapped sweets in my bag.

 All of the college balls, lunches, and formal dinners; birthday celebrations; presentations; each now a wonderful memory with stories to treasure. 

 I remember the hours spent debating our life’s plans, the hopes, the dreams, the uncertainty, the challenges. Losing you was not in our plans, dearest, and yet here we are. 

This last year saw some of the happiest events for you. I looked on, delighted, from the periphery, as your hopes became realisation. Your DPhil viva, graduation day, meeting your loving husband Chris, wedding day, and so many more blissfully happy days in between. 

I love and miss you, dearest Kome.

You who will be forever kind, forever beautiful, forever accomplished. Forever in my heart, darling friend.