It's 10 years this week since we said goodbye to your earthly presence. But the great breadth of your mind, the depths of your compassion and the boundlessness of your enthusiasm for a million tiny moments ... all these things beat on in the hearts of those whose lives you touched.
More than once, I've been told I hold on too tight to those things, that it's time to end my 'obsession' with 'trying to behave like some guardian' of your memory, to 'let go' of my grief. Would that I could. I might as well cut off my arms and legs, as try to somehow 'unmake' all the parts of me that were made, or grown, or some other way changed through knowing you. Because they are as much a part of me as all the years of childhood, of adolescence and all the joys and sorrows I have known since.
And if a handful of posts and fervent conversations every year makes me 'obsessed', then I'm prepared to wear that badge, and embrace my little touch of madness. I'm more than happy to live with that. All the best minds have it somewhere, apparently. And mine could have grown into something so, so much worse. (And maybe, just maybe, even now, talking about you is so much easier than acknowledging that in myself. Even now.)
Besides, to remember where I've come from - to celebrate, from time to time, the things I've learned, and overcome... none of this stops me moving forward. Mikko, you will always be the most defining character of my 20s. Yes, I spent a goodly part of my 30s rebuilding when so much of my world imploded on November 11 2004. But I am not ashamed of my occasional tears in my 40s, and they do not stand in the way of this full and loving life I lead, or the lifelong learning I am pledged to pursue.
I will go on learning from all the great minds that have gone before me, and I will embrace the madness as I seek to define my own wisdom. On my terms. Always.
