Hey. So, first things first, there will be a new design here soon. Sorry it’s been so long since I blogged.

I waited to write about this. I’ve been reacting to it on Leaky, my twitter, Skype conversations and such, but I didn’t want to act, or seem to those most affected as though I was acting, more hurt by Esther’s death than my brief interactions with her warranted. We’ve all seen those guys, they take on such a large helping of grief, so disproportionate to what seems natural, that somehow the grieving people turn in on them, offering so much comfort to a peripheral member of the society that knew the deceased that it disrupts the natural and healthy chain of grieving and respect for the dead. No one wants to be that guy.

Also, there’s something that Esther herself recognized, that due to recent attention brought to her by, well, us, and mostly John Green, people had started to do that thing we all do so badly: idolize her, assign her superhuman qualities, portray her as more than she was, which was a smart, compassionate, silly, wise, young girl who had to deal with too much too soon. She said in a recent vlog that she felt like she was fooling us all. That we all needed to know she wasn’t perfect. That she gets angry and sad and frustrated – that (and she said this apologetically, mind you) there are times when she hates what has happened to her, when she hates her cancer.

(Back to that in a moment.)

So, here’s how I knew Esther:

We met at LeakyCon, so briefly I didn’t remember it until I found the picture we took, on Facebook. A dim, hazy outline of a young, glowing girl (who must have been the only girl I met that weekend on an oxygen tube, which sadly is the prime point of my memory) came back to me. I relearned about her through John’s famous With Esther video that pretty much won the HP Alliance the $250,000 from the Chase Giving Challenge. I loved her sunny disposition. I loved that she wasn’t about her cancer. I was so unbelievably touched that while I was running around LeakyCon in a whirlwind, thinking the world madness, she was making those kinds of memories and having that kind of fun.

When we won the challenge, I texted her (and cursed, twice. To a then 15-year-old. What an insane morning). She wrote:

“aaaa all I’ve been doing since I found out is cry congfratulations [sic] so much

In the end, she welcomed her death, as she did her life, with open-armed exuberance.

It reminds me of something I read once.

“But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.”

That’s Deathly Hallows, the Tale of the Three Brothers – the basis on which it is said Harry was able to master death. He welcomed it when it was its time. He was still scared, still hurt, still human, but he welcomed it.

Does that make Esther a master of death? Without purporting to mean that being a master of death makes one perfect, I would say yes. Her cancer, her coming death, it made her part of who she was. For whatever reason they happened and whether all those things were good or bad, they happened, and Esther recognized that. That her cancer, while sucking, was now an integral part of her life and the connections she made with others. I think she connected all this – I think she thought to hate her cancer was to hate all that’s happened because of it. I think she had the presence of mind to connect the bad with the good and enjoy the whole, which is what made her regret hating her cancer. For instance, she said this on her formspring:

Q: what is one thing you want to change about your life? like, I HAVE MAGICAL POWERS AND CAN MAGICALLY CHANGE THINGS type changes.

really honestly I don’t think I’d change anything if I were given the chance. so many words that have been passed between the people I love are because of the bad things and the good things that have happened. and I like those words and wouldn’t want them to chaAaAaAange. so, nothing.

That’s remarkable. To be that age and be so full of love that you don’t even want to hate the thing killing you – that is remarkable.

So while we remember that all of us – even Harry, even Esther, even all masters of Death – are human and flawed, let’s not forget that it is also possible to stand out. In a hurry to remember that Esther was human, I want it not to be forgotten that she was also, in a word, remarkable.

Shine on, Esther. My last promise is not broken, only suspended for awhile. See you soon.