Every time my little child shows me the sky I have to think of you. That I knew you for two years and yet, didn't know you. That you were the one in my office with the crazy hair, that I secretly called a bird's nest. That every time we talked, I felt uneasy, because I couldn't hide, somehow you looked through people's shells. I saw sadness in you and, maybe, anger? I thought this is because Caltech wasn't the right place for you? I will never know the reasons why you had to end your life.

When my little child shows me the sky, and I think of you, I'm afraid, too. Would I survive if he left me behind? Would I survive to be left behind without me knowing why he did that and why I didn't see his suffering? And if I survived, would I ever forgive myself?

When I see the sky, I'm also thinking of how little I know about the people around me, what battles they are fighting, whether they are sad or happy. My battle is to remain sensitive and aware for the needs of my loved ones, and to make sure they know how much I love them, and at the same time try to acknowledge that I can not shield them from all the pain, sadness, and tragedies that life can bring.

Your family and friends will gather on September 22^nd, my 33^rd birthday. I will celebrate life that day, as I do most days since I have a child. But there is something that you changed. I am more conscious.