She was staggeringly beautiful and brilliant. Her talents defied right brain/left brain categorization. I was mesmerized by her presence. It was colorful, and graceful, and bawdy and big, filled with a contagious energy. Her heart was ten times the size of the moon, and her love for her son was huge and deep and desperate. She had a particular brand of magic that always left me thinking, out of breath, happier. There wasn’t anything about her you could call ordinary. Her engagement with life was deep and meaningful and soulful and silly. She ripped into it like you’d bite a sandwich after you hadn’t eaten in three days. She hungered to help the world, add her mark to improve the parts that were broken. She was a singer/songwriter, a nurse practitioner, a volunteer, a model, a daughter, sister, wife, mom and friend. She told me she wanted to be me when she got older. I told her she must really aim higher! She was only 32. And this weekend she died. I am grateful to you Katie McQuaid Toig, for allowing me in. Your departure seems a sin against mankind. The sky was the most delicate color of pink last night, and in a moment it was dark. I feel quite certain that was you. Telling us you’d arrived in a happy place. The tragedy of your loss has pulled a black veil over my heart. But I will remember that sky, when I remember you.