Hey Al,

Friday night, I saw you lying lifeless in a casket. I looked at you wearing your favorite IWU golf pullover (which I know you worked so hard to earn) holding a baseball and golfball, surrounded by all those who love you and by an incredible amount of flowers. The only thing missing was your smile. A smile that made everything better. A real smile, full of happiness and joy and contentment.

I looked at you and I had to find some sort of strength in me to say goodbye. I had to grin and bear it and choke back tears while all of my favorite moments with you were flooding through my head like a film reel. I kept imagining that if you were there with me, you would be the one comforting me even if you were hurting more than I was. That's always something you made me strive to do- to be more selfless. It was never about you, it was always about everyone else. We would sit down at Flat Top after a busy week and the first thing you'd say to me was, "How are you? Fill me in." You would laugh at a funny story, you would give me boy advice when I was stressing over it, and then we'd spend a lengthy amount of time discussing what we had put in our stir fry bowls (I still think you're crazy for picking rice instead of noodles).

You made everyone who was important in your life feel important and cared for, and loved.

Friday night, each step I took closer and closer toward you I found myself wishing with every ounce of my being that I could just forget all of this happened. Forget all of the tears and the grief, forget everything I kept remembering you wouldn't get to do. But then that would mean that we would forget you. Something not a single person who knew you could ever do if they tried.

I thought back to every week we had dinner together and how we would discuss the whole Keith vs. Mr. Stevenson debacle and we would laugh at how awkward I was about it. Then you would tell me that at your wedding, I would have to dance with your dad and, I quote, "Pull yourself together and just call him Keith, damnit". You'll be happy to know I've still avoided addressing him personally. But don't worry, one day I will and I know you'll be there with me when I finally work up the courage to do so.

How does someone sum up all that made you you in one letter? Ali, how do I describe to everyone how you made the world a better place just by existing? How do I tell them that you were the most gentle listener or the most loyal friend? How will anyone know the legacy you are leaving behind?

Truth is, I can't. No one can sum up all that you were, all that you mean to them in one simple little letter. It's not possible.

Ali, you left such a remarkable impact on everyone that you knew. You changed my life impermeably and forever and for that, I will be eternally grateful to you. I know that you will be with those you loved, watching over us and guiding us through life. You'll laugh when I trip and fall and break my other pinky finger, you'll send some birdie thoughts our way when we are competing, and I know you will keep your family and friends company even in their darkest times.

So tonight, and for the rest of my life, as I continue to grieve and process everything that has happened, I will remember all of the good you brought into my life. I will conjure up your laugh in my memory, and I can picture your smile like I just saw you yesterday. My heart hurts from missing you and grieving for you, but I know now you'll be able to go to every Cubs game (best seats in the house!) and play some of the most incredible golf courses while you're up in Heaven. Just promise me you won't forget about us down here.

All my love forever and always.