I flip over my speech card and take a deep breath. “This is a poem by Tanya’s late brother, Andrew. It’s called ‘Gone Are the Days.’ I hope you enjoy.
Gone are the days of innocence.
Gone are the days of blissful ignorance.
Gone are the days of wonder and adventure.
Time strips them away without warning or pretense.
It wraps itself around you and molds you into who the world needs you to be.
Time takes, yet it also gives.
It gives experience.
It gives wisdom and freedom.
It gives forgiveness.
Time gave me you.
And so how can something that gives me someone so treasured be bad?
Gone are the days of storm clouds, for you’ve shone your ray of light onto me.
Gone are the days of despair, for you’ve given me joy.
Gone are the days of being alone, for now I walk beside you.”
When I finish reading the poem, I look out into the audience, searching for one person in particular. When I find Auntie Joyce with tear-stricken cheeks and an approving smile on her face, I’m happy.
The servers come out of the kitchen, brandishing trays of covered plates. “Dinner is being served now, and in a little while we will open the gallery for your viewing—and buying—pleasure. In the meantime, please enjoy this documentary made in Tanya’s honor. I believe that the only way a person can truly die is if we stop talking about them. Everyone featured in this documentary had wonderful stories to share about Tanya. I encourage each and every one of you to continue telling those stories. Thirty years from now, I hope your kids, your kids’ kids, and their kids all know who Tanya was. She’ll live on forever in all of us. Thank you.”
Micah waits off stage for me, so I take his hand and let him guide us to our seats.
The lights dim as the documentary plays.
It starts with Micah’s very first interview, the one we did in Tanya’s house. The audience is immediately enthralled by his story.
It cuts to him working on her portrait, with me peppering him with questions about his artistic choices.
Throughout the video, the footage keeps cutting back to Micah painting the portrait of Tanya. I start chiming in more and more as it goes on.
One of the last interviews Micah and I recorded was one of my own. My heart starts to race when I see my face on the screen, hoping I didn’t gaslight myself into thinking the footage was good when it wasn’t.
“Can I ask you a question?” Micah asks off screen.
“That is kinda what we’re doing here.” I laugh.
“You right. Did Tanya give you that necklace?”
In the video my hand flies up to rub the very necklace lying against my chest as I grab the same necklace in real time.
“She did. How’d you know?”
“A lot of times when we talk about her, you touch it. I don’t even think you realize you’re doing it. It seems like it just comes naturally for you.”
On screen I rub the necklace three more times before answering him. “She gave it to me three years ago. Actually, it was the night of your gallery opening.”
