(posted for Cris & Felix) Buddy, I can't believe that it's been one year. I think of you often. Not a day goes by that I reach for my phone to call you and tell you something funny or just ask you how your day went. It was fun being with you especially around the holidays. We visited your house last

Recently, I have been thinking hard about Paul’s car – specifically, though it is still difficult even now to use any version of this phrase, the last car Paul owned. Paul drove several different cars during the time I knew him. When we met in 1989, he didn’t have a car: for which I, and hopefully

I remember meeting Paul for the first time like it was yesterday. At the Paraportiani Church wall on Mykonos, I was sat looking out to see on my very first day there and he sat down next to me. And he started talking. We went to dinner - at a restaurant that was on a steep slope slope. So steep that

I just learned today that Paul passed away. He was my therapist back in the mid-90s for a couple of years. I adored him, as everyone here did. Rest In Peace, Paul and his doggie.

Thinking of you all as we approach yet another anniversary of a death I still find unbelievable. Paul has been in the forefront of my mind. Feeling his presence around me is bittersweet. I can smile at the flashbacks, but still feel profoundly sad that he's gone. Hope you all are treasuring precious

"Myth" Natasha Trethewey from Native Guard: Poems (2007) I was asleep while you were dying. It’s as if you slipped through some rift, a hollow I make between my slumber and my waking, the Erebus I keep you in, still trying not to let go. You’ll be dead again tomorrow, but in dreams you live. So

Paul was such a kind person and thoughtful. Many years ago, I was this young black woman working at GW in financial aid, he showed me kindness and respect which I have never forgotten. Please know that he impacted so many in the way he did me. I grew up the in Michigan Park area of DC down from Broo

On Ontario Road, we sit down to a homemade lunch. We’re out on your covered patio, and the stone statue of Christ occupies a corner. From your salad you pick out a leaf, place it on the head of Christ, and say, “Lettuce pray!” You laugh exaggeratedly, both at your joke and at how bad it is. Try as

P-A-U-L still ='s L-O-V-E !!

We are all hurting and healing in our own ways, and that's testament... at least to me... of how Paul touched each of our lives in such different and amazing ways. I share with you all my own grief and sadness, but also an abundance of love and gratitude that this man was in my life.