Amanda Elizabeth Shaw
Dear Ryan,
I don't know you, but I get a glimpse of you through the person you loved and the person you would have loved. I feel the immense pressure to fully appreciate the life with the two Shaws, knowing that you would have quite literally given everything to experience (life in general, but especially) this.
I often describe my living situation as living “with a child of a friend”, but what I actually should be saying is that I live with “a friend with a child”. It’s Amanda who I chose to live with, the same woman who you once chose too. Given we made the same choices, I often wonder how much of why you chose her, would overlap with why I did.
I love Amanda, for how she always gives 200% of herself to this thing called life.
When she spends time with Otis, she jumps into the pool, runs around the playground, and chases the ball. She’s never that mom who just sits at the bench watching her child from afar. She’s there for him and with him.
She is like that not just with her son, but more importantly with herself too. In the ever-growing-to-do list of life admin as a single mother and a sales director, she finds ways to squeeze in workouts, nails, and massages. She dresses up and shows up for Friday night dinners, even when she’d be late or she’d have to leave early. She frames new paintings, replaces dead plants, and plans for family holidays.
She is always tired, but perhaps never tired of life.
Amanda still lives by the vow you two made: to live the life we want.
She doesn't settle for the choices she's handed, but rather starts from what she truly wants and works backward to find a way. Like how she wanted a life with a family, so got pregnant with the frozen sperm you left. She wanted to stay true to her vegetarian values, so she started reading PhD papers on dietary arrangements for raising a healthy vegetarian child. Instead of limiting herself to child-friendly travel destinations, she accepted her friend's invitation to Southern France and eventually orchestrated schedules and support to make that a successful trip.\
I learned from her that I can demand more from life, and there always is a way.
Amanda is brave, independent, and strong, but she doesn’t expect others to be like her. She offers support without judgements, and empathizes even when she won’t feel the same way. I have called her after a breakup, after I was robbed, and after a family trouble. And she always knew when to advise and when to just listen, when to hold me and when to give me space, and when to cheer me on and when to tell me the truth.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm as supportive as she is to me, though she would probably say that friendship is not like a one-to-one balance sheet. But still, because I know that she’s not the type to lean on others, I often look to the sky and hope that, whenever she’s in need she would look up to you, and that you are there for her.
She is one freaking wonderful human being. I'm sure she always has been, but I want you to know that she still truly is. She even kept her hot-ass body, with a tiny waist even after giving birth and toned arms perhaps from all the lifting of Otis. You’re missing out big.
You are not here, but you are everywhere. Amanda is who she is, because of all the times you two shared together. Otis is the little you, with how wildly whacky he is, and with his two camel-like eyes that get squinted when he is deeply focused. You are at the very core of who they are, the two people I call it a family.
No one knows what's after death- it could be heaven, hell, or nothing. I've been thinking that perhaps, maybe, if there is one thing that is most definitely known to exist beyond death, it would be the love that is left in this world.
Love that you gave and the love you will continue to receive is right here. It is grand and radiant and boundless. It is carried through these two amazing Shaws, and I, amongst so many other friends and families, get to receive that every single day.
This love is dedicated to you. Thanks for everything.