there is something inherently cruel about facebook robots. Not quite a week ago, my aunt passed away. She called me her "borrowed daughter", we share the same birthday, communicated (admittedly) sporadically, and over the last month she's popped up constantly on my Facebook sidebar, asking if I can suggest any friends for her. Especially, it seems, over the last week.

Better than Facebook friends, I can say, I have vibrant memories of her. When I was in high school she came to stay with us and cooked amazing Fijian/Indian dishes for us, imparted her family's secret recipe for DELICIOUS salsa to us, and shared her life. When I lived in India for a while, she told my mom she was looking for "Indian treasures" around her house to send to me.

When I visited her in Hawai'i, I told her I didn't have a bathtub in my house and that baths are one of my favorite things. That night, she drew me a bath in her giant pink tub, laid a variety of lovely bath salts out, and told me if the water ever got close to cold that I should run new, hot water. "Just enjoy yourself, don't worry," she said. I spent the night immersed in bubbles with a good book, and got my bath "fix" for the next several months. Life in Hawai'i isn't cheap, and she wasn't rich, but she wanted to give me something lovely. Something I still remember.

She also tipped over a bucket full of chicken in her Bronco while we were hurrying home to watch the playoffs, and she was agitated and forgot her turn and slammed on her brakes. I love that memory.

Like all of us, she had her own struggles. While she was not always an easy woman, she cared about our family so much. I will miss her, as I know many will. Her story will remain with us, and will be kept alive in us.