Grief draws the most unexpected of people together. We all sat and stared at the sunset and drank homemade wine. Later we swam under the stars in the warm, balmy water. The air was sultry and I could smell arid dust, the heavy perfume of roses. But mingled with it, cutting through the illusion of perfection, we could all smell death. It wasn't as though we were shutting it out, the doors were all open, our minds were all open. But we ignored it. Hoping for closure. Hoping for something that could never be real again. Despite illusions of happiness, we never know what is around the corner. We never know who is suffering what in their own private hell. We judge people for how they act. We don't see far enough into their lives to help them. Then when something happens, it all becomes clear and we all curse ourselves for not noticing. For her son, for those who loved her and knew and respected her. For those who failed to notice but cared so much. For those who think of her now, who drink to her name and who weep for her memory. For those who she loved so much but she left behind. For those who had to find her. Selina, this is for you. With all my hope that you can find the happiness you did not here, and with all my love.