This one is for you, Margay Edwards

October 7, 2014


I envied you.

You were beautiful throughout our pubescent awkwardness. Effortlessly graceful on the basketball court and at the after parties with boys.

I was drawn to you.

You had this enigmatic energy that captured a room, daring anyone not to smile. You enchanted everyone lucky to be near enough to fall under your spell.

I admired you.

Despite your obvious success and unbridled potential, you were humble, kind and grateful. And you always made us laugh.

I supported you.

No matter where life took either of us, I always wished you the best. I always knew you possessed greatness, everyone did.

I missed you.

Work kept me far from home, and pursuing dreams occupied my mind. When it drifted back to home, though, fond memories of our youth poured in.

I hugged you.

The last time I saw you, I was with my mom, and you were lovely, as usual. We were both so glad to have run into you, and hoped to absorb some of your radiant energy.

I wept for you.

Like a baby. When I heard they’d found you out in the desert, a victim of a horrific tragedy, I cried. You’re too good, for that, I said.

I defended you.

A national news outlet covered your passing using the hashtag #bodyindesert. You deserve better than that, more honor. I did the only thing I could, asserting my feeble digital power to influence.

I fought for you.

I loyally reminded this reporter what a beautiful soul you were and they ignorantly lacked tact. They changed the hashtag. It’s the least I could do, m’dear.

I will always think of you.

The life you will no longer get to live. I thank you for touching mine. You are, and will always be, a star, and I am better for knowing you.

There is a belief in some cultures that we die three deaths: when the last breath escapes our lungs, when we are lowered into the ground, and when the last person that can tell our stories has passed.

We will honor you.

We will tell your story. We will tell it so that generations to come will know of your enviable beauty, your admirable grace and brilliant smile.

Morro Bay High School Varsity Basketball 2002

Morro Bay High School Varsity Basketball 2002


You have truly shown honor and love to your friend with this. Bless you.


In the chilly hours and minutes
Of uncertainty, we want to be
In the warm hold of your loving mind

To feel you all around us
And to take your hand along the sand
Ah, but we may as well try and catch the wind

When sundown pales the sky
We want to hide a while behind your smile
And everywhere we’d look your eyes we’d find

For us to love you now
Would be the sweetest thing ‘twould make us sing
Ah, but we may as well try and catch the wind

When rain has hung the leaves with tears
We want you near to kill our fears
To help us to leave all our blues behind

For standin’ in your heart
Is where we want to be and long to be
Ah, but we may as well try and catch the wind

Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind

fishing village

Your words are Sweet, sensitive and made me cry.
I didn’t know this young woman but wish I had
such a short life, but gave so much.
my heart is broken for her family and friends,
let’s think good thoughts
remember to be careful
be cautious all of you pretty young women out there
don’t be trusting of everyone
protect yourselves
be safe!


What a beautiful gift to have given in rememberence of Margay. Brought tears to my eyes and then some. I am sure her family will appreciate your kind words and the sentiments expressed. I venture to say you are as lovely as she is and have no need to envy. God bless you and comfort you.


That was beautiful, the world is missing a shining start with you no longer here among us.


Such a lovely eulogy, Ms. Peterson. Sincere condolences to you.


A beautiful tribute which tugs at the heartstrings of friendship.