Kavya

Today, I learned Kavya had passed away, earlier in the morning. She was 25 years old.

I shared with my friend: “I never had a bad experience with her. Every memory I ever had was always so sweet.” She always had a smile on her face. She was really gentle.

She made campus for me feel like an extension of home.

Last time I said those words, I was reminiscing about my high school days with a friend. We shared how the respect for intellect and exploration of it was so nurtured there. A vulnerable process was always encouraged; I never felt embarrased, only welcomed.

And now, I find myself saying it again: Kavya made campus feel like home, too.

We are all probably seeking home – and perhaps the roads there are many. They are. She’s taught me that.

The definition of home, the many paths there, are probably both expansive in nature. Yet that feeling, of knowing you are close, and then knowing you are there, is very poignant, delicate.

To know someone, and in their presence feel at home, no matter where you are, by their presence alone – that is indicative of something deeper. That tells me I got to cross paths and spend moments of my life with someone special.

I wish I had reached out to you on your last birthday – I wish I had known it was in November.

And another part of me knows it doesn’t matter. There is something much bigger, and deeper, and more significant that overshadows all of that.

Kavya was such a kind, sweet, gentle person. Not even one moment I spent with her negates that. Her time here was so short, but how beautifully it occured.