I think about Amelia often. I don't think there's a time that I've gotten behind the wheel that I haven't briefly touched on her memory. I try to remember her lust for life though, instead of her senseless death. Mostly I remember her laughter. It was infectious and ringing. I also think about her work as an artist and her daring. She was fearless in her creating. She was not afraid of learning new things and working hard to make her ideas come to life. She'd dance, sew, paint... whatever it took to say what she wanted to say.
When I lived in New York, I used to visit the site of the accident. They had erected a memorial, a Ghost Bike. I would go there usually in the early morning, when it was quiet and fewer people were about. When I went, I felt closer to her. Sometimes I'd leave notes. Sometimes I'd leave flowers. Sometimes I'd leave mardi gras beads. I would leave tribute to my friend.