Just before her birthday, her classmates held an event in her name. I heard stories of adventures and chats. Student type evenings in the pub, with regular checks of that ragtag little train table she kept.
She loved learning and reading and people, and all of that was here in one place. She’d be so touched they planted a tree for her. I’m eternally grateful too. They gave me a place to visit, to sit with her a while.