In Memory of Jeffrey

To say that February was horrible would be an understatement. For those who don’t know, there was a second death in my family.


Flashback to the 1990s–the culdesac of redacted. buzzed with laughter and games; it was THE place to be for us kids. Jeffrey had always been a big part of it all. He was funny and kind no matter how silly my Lion King shirts were or how frizzy my hair was; it didn’t matter. There was always a fervor of excitement over baseball and football, and trading cards was serious business back then. He had the crown jewel, #80 Jerry Rice of the San Francisco 49ers. I traded whatever he wanted for it because I *had* to have it. When the big day came, he put the card in a nice plastic case, which it still resides in to this day. 

I miss you, Jeffrey. I have always treasured my Jerry Rice card. 


I have many fond memories of us all piling in Tim’s giant, wood paneled station wagon, but none stand out as much as a trip to San Francisco one year. As Tim drove down the winding streets, Jeffery rolled down his window with a smirk.

“BUNGOOOOOOWWWWW!” he shouted at the pedestrians.* There was no containing the laughter that followed! I’ll never forget that trip, and I will forever cherish this memory.

*This is what he shouted to the best of my memory.