Anonymous

I was among the cohort of thirty-some students that arrived at Stanford in the Fall of 2003. So much of that time seems very far away with occasional and random memories. What I did gather, was that there was a passion (maybe even a tortured fascination!)that brought our random bunch together — making our world better, treating kids better, figuring out the mechanics of learning, and, hopefully in the process, figuring ourselves out too. Six years later (agh), as I approach my degree completion and try to figure out where I will land next, I turn to my peers, colleagues and friends for advice and inspiration. And I remember that there are empty pockets of our original cohort. Some have left voluntarily. Some have not.
Admittedly, I was not a close friend of Amir, and my memories of him are brief images of smiles, intense listening, and an warmly open social energy that I aspire to have. His loss, for family, friends and colleagues, is truly unfathomable and as time passes, it seems more unfair. The Amir Lopatin Fellowship, however, gives me the chance to remember and renew my promises and passions — the ones that I know that Amir and I shared. Maybe we were just friendly acquaintances for our brief time together, but his commitment to learning and life continues to find me in times and ways that I am thankful for.

Over three years have passed since your death. I have largely healed from the pain as much as anyone can say that. I’ve even used my experience to console bereaved parents. I feel you are a guiding angel who watches over me and I feel your spirit and thank you for your kindness toward me. I miss you.

I was deeply touched and moved by Jonathan’s speech on the Amir’s ride 2006. I think it’s a mitzvah to do Amir’s ride the day before the 5th anniversary of 9/11. The Amir Lopatin Fund and the Amir’s ride are all about turning tragedy into goodness and using trauma as a way to heal the world. My thoughts are with you on this day of Amir’s Ride 2006. He will always hold a special place in my heart.

Today I walked past your favorite ultimate frisbee spot in Central Park. Images of you continue to burn brightly in my mind.

I have just lost a father and on seeking information on laws of mourning I came upon this wonderful website. I should say I also lost a sister at the tender age of 31. She was my best friend , my…well my Amir. Well loved, young aspiring mother etc. I remember the line of cars on the way to the cemetary stretched beyond site. Reading the stories, eulogies, poems, thoughts on the site only bring back the feeling of intense loss. Intense doesn’t begin to describe it really. My fathers recent death and my sisters death ,now 19 years ago are a painful reminder of our fragile existence here. It took me many years to forget the pain of her loss, only to be conjured back with another close death. The blessing you have done by posting this site with its heart fealt emotion surely is Amir’s n’shama, his will, giving solace to others he never even knew. May your pain and sorrow be short and his spirit live forever.

I was thinking of you on your second yarzheit. The pain is deep. It hurts inside to know that you are gone. Your emptiness is felt like a presence. I feel a deep sorrow and grief. The words are not coming, but the pain is there. May your memory be a blessing and a source of strength to everyone you touched.