OCTOBER 15th 2020

I am sitting with my hands full of cards, letters, notes:

“You were so kind , bringing smiles to everyone around you.”

“You were the first person to talk to me at Credo. I had been mean to you but you made me open up and I told you something I have never told anyone before... You made me realize my worth and saved my life.”

“There is very rarely a perfect soul in the world. I think, however, that you were one. Everything you did, you did with kind energy and infectious laugh...”

“It was a joy to be her teacher because of her unique creative mind, and positive kind attitude... she wanted to engage to connect and share her gifts. Amelie was working on her senior essay in my class. In this remarkable piece of writing, she reflected on visiting her grandmother in Italy... In this creative piece I saw a young woman with a powerful imagination and vivid inner life, as well as the writing talent and sensitivity to depict her childhood memories of her grandmother’s home...”

“Ami was one of the most reassuring people I have ever met in my life. Most students did not have such an effect on me but Ami did. She created several award-winning artistic designs for my classes... Ami gave me hope for the future... Her warmth and her sense of humor will live on in my heart and soul. Ami always paid attention and she was always very considerate of others - including her teachers...”

“Thank you for being a staple of pure positivity in my life.”

“Amelie was the light of my life and helped me through a lot.”

“Even tough you are gone, you are the most loved of any student at our School, by both students and staff… Everyone was your friend, you were such a bright soul, so happy and friendly. Such a beautiful young woman. NO ONE will forget you, especially me.”

“Thank you for blessing my life and so many others with your immeasurable spirit, and bright light. You touched and inspired so many with your light, laughter, and your ability to light up the room with kindness.”

“She radiated love and positivity like a living breathing star. She has always had a wild soul, followed by an unforgettable smile... There was never any room in her heart for hatred. She made sure all of her friends knew they were loved... I only hope that I can grow up to be the type of person Amelie would be proud of. Being one of her friends has been the greatest blessing in my life... She supported my love and passion for writing. She believe in me like no other person. I will miss her passion for life and fierce heart.”

Amelie, my daughter, the love of my life, crossed over to the other side on October 1st 2020. My life will forever be changed, my journey of grief, mourning never ending till I meet her again on the other side.

Each human life is like a pebble tossed into a pool of water. Its ripples move ever outward and touch the world and the lives of others in ways we cannot imagine. This continues even after death. Though Amelie’s life was short, her effect on her world and the people who loved her was enormous. We have lost her, but we have not stopped loving her. Our knowing of her can continue to deepen and grow through our contemplation of her life. What are the themes of her life? What meaning does her life have for us? What gestures from her life resonate with us?

I began to hear Amelie calling to me before I had even met Morgan. Once I listened to that call and answered it with my own yearning, things happened quickly. Amelie wasted no time. She drew her parents together, and was conceived just six months after Morgan and I met—in the aftermath of 9/11. Morgan didn’t even know about Amelie’s plans for him to be her father—he hadn’t yet heard her calling to him—and it was an adjustment for him. But ultimately he took on the role of fatherhood with steadfast consistency and a profound admiration of this beautiful being of light in his life; indeed, she called upon his love as she had mine.

As an infant Amelie wanted always to be held . She would only be put down for short period of times and woke from sleep if the contact was broken for too long. This connectedness to her mama and a small circle of loved ones persisted through Amelie’s life. Her attachment had a quality of deep devotion.

Amelie’s early years were rich in family, nature, and loving attachment. She and I would go to Italy for a month each summer where we spent time with our Italian clan. Amelie loved every minute of spending time with her Nonna , Nonno, her amazing cousin/sister Chiara , her aunt Eleonora, uncle Michele and my mom’s family side in the beautiful mountains of Northern Italy. There she experienced a different way of living which molded her in the years to come to become the person she was. She traveled to beaches and mountains, rode horses at my sister’s farm, plunged into the warm sea and connected with many people who remain friends to this day.

She played with insects, snails, spiders, her kitty, and in the vegetable garden. Every summer her Nonna would return to Sonoma County with us from Italy and care for Amelie while I was at work. Her childhood was rich in experiences for her senses—nature, beauty, touch, attachment, love. It is no wonder that we were drawn to Waldorf education, which in early childhood is very much an education of the senses.

As Amelie neared school age she and I moved to Sebastopol in order to attend the Sebastopol Charter School. She entered preschool at Midori’s preschool, where she met Daisy, her dear lifelong friend.

Amelie was not happy about going to school for it meant being away from her mama. She would cry and cling to me at drop off time. It took Daisy’s hand to get her to let go and enter the classroom. Miss Pam called Daisy Amelie’s pacifier.

In the early grades Amelie lived in her own time and space. She was a deeply imaginative and intuitive child. When she drew a person-house-tree drawing she was up in the tree. She spoke of fairies and gnomes—they were real for her.

I had the honor of starting aftercare while she was in Kindergarten up to 5th grade, and I enjoyed seeing her play with her friends, sharing her space, playing hot lava, jump rope, going to pumpkin patches outings and creating strong bonds.

These are things her teacher Laurie Tuchel wrote about her in her reports:

Amelie’s eyes are like deep wells into her soul. They do not seem to shield her from the experiences she encounters.

Amelie lives in the realm of her heart. She carries such love and imagination and relates deeply to the content of her lessons. She moves through her day as if in water—slowly, serenely—as if there weren’t a bustling classroom of children waiting for her. She plays kindly with everyone, but favors a few close friends. I believe their affections are as necessary to her as food and water.

Amelie paints with far more sophistication and responsiveness than any child her age I’ve ever known. Her paintings are breathtakingly beautiful. She has a gift and it behooves us adults to do all we can to protect and preserve it.

Amelie immersed herself in her artwork, and it was always a challenge to get her to move along at the pace of the rest of the group.

All work that AMELIE does is beautiful indeed

It would serve her well to work with more speed

She was at odds with the world’s pace.

In middle school, Amelie never mastered the art of eye-rolling. At best she sighed wearily from time to time. As cliques and gossip ran through the social realm, Amelie seemed to be on the periphery—well loved by many, but never at the center. She welcomed everyone, though she avoided drama. I think she felt that she wasn’t quite in with the in crowd and was a little uncertain about her place in the social fabric.

In eighth grade the students wrote letters to their future selves. Amelie said, “Dear Future Amelie, Please remember to be kind, even when it is hard. Remember to be honest, and generous. Remember that your actions, not your thoughts, define you. Appreciate your parents with all your heart. Don’t change yourself for other people.”

She wondered if she would still love drawing; she wondered if she would make the volleyball team.

In high school there were times of questioning herself and discovering herself, of separating from old friends and making new ones. It grieved her when old friends went their way. It troubled her that she still carried anxiety about separating from her mother. But the intentions she set for herself in eighth grade rang true.

The last two summers before Covid Amelie spent in the south of France with a community of families from all over Europe. Here she blossomed, and I imagine she discovered how unique and loveable she was. The young people she met there adored her for her kindness and her honesty. They found her care of spiders and critters remarkable. She moved easily between groups—and tried to meld them together. She was included and inclusive. They admired her extraordinary talent and developed deep bonds that persisted year ‘round via social media. I like to think that she realized through their reflections how beautiful she was inside and out.

By the time she reached her senior year she was deeply connected with her group of close friends. She explored many mediums for her art and was working on repurposed clothing for her senior project—each article was a work of art. She had a beautiful voice and she sang in the American Music ensemble. She was a skilled volleyball player, and her teammates point out that despite this, she always played for the team. She wrote poetry and loved writing as a form of expression. She could laugh and be as silly as a young child. She was an extremely talented intuitive cook that experimented with odd ingredients to create amazing dinners for me when I got home. How did she do it? I wondered!!!!

Amelie had a social conscience and a deep compassion for others. Amelie’s presence made people better. Amelie genuinely wanted her friends and peers to believe in themselves and not to care about what other thought of them. She wanted them all to express their true self.

Amelie had plans to go to Italy for art school—possibly in fashion design—and it troubled her to anticipate separating from her home to do so. Her trip to Oregon was a preparation for leaving.

Amelie’s relationship with her friend Lala was a constant in her life. She went to Oregon to visit Lala. Francesca and Wendy, Lala’s mother, were dear friends who had known each other before Francesca met Morgan, and their daughters were born just four months apart. In some senses Amelie grew up with Lala. Though they did not live in the same town, they saw each other regularly, and when they did it was as if no time had passed. Amelie’s trip to Oregon to stay with Lala for two weeks was a rite of passage for Amelie, a practice for going to art school in Italy.

Lala and Amelie died together on October 1st a little after 9:00 on a Thursday evening.

Amelie’s life touched so many circles of people and continues to ripple into our souls. Her death will have a lifelong impact on us. Yet her life too will continue to touch us. Who was Amelie? How does her life resound in our hearts? How did her life affect us then, and how does it continue to affect us now?

What speaks to me first is her devotion. Her life was imbued with it—for her parents, her family, her dear friends, her art, for the world of nature, for the world she loved.

On the one hand she arrived and left with speed, but on the other she moved slowly and fluidly through life, like water. Though she moved at a more languid pace, she filled all of her activities and relationships with so much vitality, so much love. Through this slow careful attention she made her life bigger.

And of course, there is the theme of love. It colors her entire life, even from her first callings to her parents to our last remembered moments.

As we sit with our pain and loss, we enter into the imponderable mystery of Amelie’s life, and the beauty and love her life bestowed on us. Though she is gone, that beauty and love continue. In our waves of grief and devastation we have only this possibility: love.

I hope that in contemplating her life and who she was to you, you will continue to find connection with Amelie. We can no longer hold her in our arms, but we can continue to love her, and we can turn the love that she shone on us toward each other.