I raise my margarita glass to you

Dearest Rajiv,

I could write something very deep and serious about you here, but in many ways you were very much a private person to the outside world, choosing to share that private side with only a select few. Honoring you and celebrating your life isn't about a eulogy of meaningless facts or even sappy sentimentality. No, when I think of how I want to remember you it's in the mundane and unique details that are "you," the weird, random, and funny shit I will always carry with me just as much as the qualities about you I most admired and cherished. So here goes.

I always loved how you'd get passionately angry like a mama bear and throw around the best of foul language when someone (especially someone you cared about) was being screwed over or hurt in some way. That kind of loyalty is hard to come by and always made me laugh a little inside.

I will never forget when you were dogsitting years ago for a guy you didn't like...you didn't have kind words for him but told him "I wish Doolie (the dog) the best." I laugh every time I think of that, just as I laugh every time I think of the night you showed me a very cheesy porn scene with the woman who propositioned a man for a sexual conquest because "Would you be so kind as to.....? I don't want to be a rookie for my husband."

Your distinct and infectious laugh as you'd clap your hands excitedly, usually followed by "Oh my god, that's hilarious!" How your dance moves got crazier the more alcohol you drank, especially the time we had a dance party in your living room one night and your knees hurt so bad the next day because you were busting out dance moves all over the hardwood floor.

Your love of Mexican food, especially avocados and Garcia's margaritas. You always got Eddie and I in trouble with insisting on ordering that 2nd pitcher we most certainly did NOT need. There was something magical in those Garcia's margaritas, an elixir of sorts that brought out all the best conversational worlds of wit, weirdness, silliness, waxing philosophical, and even sweetly sentimental. I will always think of you when I drink a margarita, especially from Garcia's.

For years you would absentmindedly and accidentally address me as Eddie or Eddie as Katie, then catch yourself. "Hey Eddie....I mean, Katie." And though I can't remember any at the moment, there were the Rajiv quotes....things you'd say that were unintentionally funny, perhaps because the way you unknowingly worded things and they only sounded funny to Eddie and I because we're not from your country.

Then there was the time we almost got kicked out of the casino on our Michigan trip, not only because we were taking pictures inside but because for whatever reason you gave security the impression that you looked suspicious or a potential "threat" with your man bag and they briefly put out an APB on you.We were the youngest people in that senior citizen-ish casino. They had probably never encountered a stylishly dressed 30something year old with a man bag before that cold December night.

Far more mundane but no less memorable....listening to music in the Lakeview apartment (Peaches!) and trying on a bunch of your old silly Halloween wigs, watching indie movies together and talking about/analyzing them afterwards, eating Thai food at your favorite Thai place at the top of the Bloomingdale's building on Michigan Ave, you bluntly and honestly telling me at times things I didn't want to hear but always helped me in the end, your comments over the years about "the girls" or our occasional "TMI" stories.

Of course, I will always cherish your softer and kinder side....but it is your playfulness, quirkiness, laugh, and sense of humor that will provide me endless laughter and smiles for the rest of my life, far surpassing any tears I am now shedding right now in this time of raw emotional grief. I love you, my weird and sweet best friend in this world. You better be greeting me on the other side with a margarita when it's my time.

Love,
Katie