I was just telling someone that I've lived my life in fours - four years of high school, four years of college, and now nearly four years of living in Los Angeles. I say this only because I'm basically heading into the "Freshman" year of the next phase of my life. 

My actual Freshman year of high school was so interesting and colored by the experience I had, now eleven years ago. Six months into high school, I was watching the Oscars with my mom when we got the call that Andrew wasn't doing very well - I had to take care of school first, though. Had to call someone I was working on a group project with and tell her I wasn't going to be in class the next day and she'd have to present without me. I was full on panicked. No real idea why, I just knew it was about to be bad and I didn't want to lose control of another thing. 

The cool and weird and sad thing about Freshman year is that you're finding your place - learning who the cool kids are, figuring out your routine, and trying to carve out your new reputation. I was trying so hard to be cool and relevant and popular that I completely ignored the trauma I had just been through. I went back to school on March 1st, probably in an effort to get back some of that control and routine. A few of my friends, but definitely not all of them, knew Andrew had died the day before. They knew I had watched him die, texted them, left the hospital with my parents, and then driven back home. But some people didn't. They came up to me in the hallway and asked how my brother was and I literally said he was "okay". I mean, I guess he was, he was more okay than he was when he was suffering for the twenty years of his life in a body that betrayed him constantly. 

It's been over a decade now. I'm coming up on my new "Freshman" year, but I'm thankful and grateful for what that first one taught me. I learned it's sometimes okay to be sad and panicked about things because sometimes things are really sad and panicking is the only way to let that out. But I also learned that having control over everything still won't prevent some bad stuff from happening. I learned that people genuinely care about you - I still specifically remember messages or conversations with people who I was not at all close with, but they still wanted me to know that they cared about what happened. Still, though, I'm learning to let people in and let them care. And I also learned that being cool and relevant and popular only really happens when you're trying not to be cool or relevant or popular. It happens when you support someone or try things or just plain care. 

I'm heading into this Freshman year having learned those lessons and realizing there's so many more to learn. I'm sad that Andrew isn't here anymore to see me learn them, but I'm forever grateful that he taught me so many while we had him here, and I'm even more appreciative that I've learned so much more in the eleven years since he's been gone. 

Andy, I had no doubt, but I hope you know, you've had an indelible mark on my life that I never, ever could have predicted. You taught me the things I didn't know I needed to learn. You taught me more about compassion and subtlety and pure joy than most people get to learn in a lifetime. And most of all you've taught me that you absolutely do not have to be perfect, or what people think of as perfect, to be perfect. Better than anyone I've ever known despite all of the imperfections. Love you and miss you. ❤️