AD9O/N9ZWM SK

I love you, Rachel. I'm so sorry I never got to Baltimore to visit you. I'm so sorry we never got to do all the things we talked about, or try any of the ideas we bounced around. You were such an amazing friend; between the practical advice and the plain old lending an ear, I don't know how many times I leaned on you over the years, but the scales were definitely unequal there. I owe you, owed you, so much. You and I openly admitted to each other that we were on each other's extremely short list of roommates, should the need arise. You should have had fifty years more. I hate walking pneumonia, the goddamn stealth killer. Hate it so much.

I had to find out through goddamn twitter, and then see a confirming e-mail. I knew her when she was presenting as a boy, back when we were kids. I'll never hear Excelsior called a big bucket of bolts without remembering our introduction - that was how we recognized each other as fellow Trek nerds and clicked. I'm so glad she didn't know the worst of me that was me in Colorado. As selfish as it sounds, and as much as she told me off for the thought (yes, she knew I felt this way), I'm so glad she didn't have the chance to reject me too. I am in pieces over here.

I was going to fly out to Baltimore and visit her, but we could never get the dates coordinated. We talked about her topping me, batted around ideas, with the understanding that either of us could tap out at any time and it would have zero bearing on our friendship. She's one of the two people who talked me into, finally, getting my ham ticket. I owe her my callsign.

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