“She said she usually cried at least once each day not because she was sad, but because the world was so beautiful and life so short.” These words on the picture you bought me on your last trip to NYC make me stop and pause as I write this note. What an amazing 28 years you had. While the shock of your death morphs into grief, I struggle to reflect on your life, one that I still can’t fully accept is gone. I look at pictures from our days in Riverdance. I read the cards you gave me for my birthdays and the little notes you left at my dorm when you escaped from the show to stay with my roommates and me. I think of all the times we shared on stage and off. You were an instant friend during rehearsals for our Broadway debut in “Reel Around the Sun.” We bounded over our graduate study plans. And with Starbucks in hand and usually Marty at your hip, we hit Manhattan, even making Marty row us in the lake in Central Park one summer afternoon. Of course on your last day before flying home after the show closed, we went shopping on Canal Street. You needed a fake Luis V! I laugh to myself as I recall your bargaining skills! Oh, Eithne.

I cherish your pictures, cards and notes. I’m grateful for our reunion with Marty when both of you just by chance spent an entire week with me. I regret not making another trip to see you, especially after we both spent my last sick with the flu stuck on your couches with the always good Hugh making us tea. I hold tightly to the memories of your last visit with Aifric. What a night we had packing in everything from an art gallery opening to a cheesy 80’s club. My best night ever followed by a beautiful day walking the length of Manhattan along the river…where a few weeks ago Alana and I had our own little memorial for you...

In your last email before going to Brazil, you told me you would visit in November. I can’t believe that November will come and go, and I won’t see you then or ever again. I won’t hear you laugh or say “Hi Girlie! I won't get to update you on work and dates after you tell me about your family, ophthalmology, dancing and Hugh.

Eithne, you were a friend like no other, always positive, understanding, compassionate and non-judging. You remembered the little and big things about others’ lives in a way to make everyone feel special. You touched so many and lived life to the fullest. You’ll live on as an example of grace, beauty, intelligence, talent and goodness. I’m honored to have known you and to have called you my friend. And now, I can only take comfort in knowing that you’re in heaven looking out for all of us. Rest in peace, dear Eithne. And God help your family and friends cope with losing you. Love you. And miss you like I never imagined. xxT