Photo by Meg Welsh.

I had just arrived in Seattle for the first time. I didn’t know a single person in that city, apart from the DJs on KEXP who regularly indulged my email requests and even read my messages on the air from time to time. Excitedly, I tuned the radio in my hotel room to 90.3 FM and grinned from ear to ear at the novelty of hearing Cheryl Waters’ Mid-Day Show on the actual airwaves. It was the beginning of the 2008 Fall Fundraising Drive, so I went straight to the KEXP website, renewed my membership, and wrote a completely cheeseball email to Cheryl telling her how thrilled I was to be in town, in the great land of KEXP.

Minutes later, I received an email from a girl named Aubrey Bean, whose email signature identified her as the Assistant Director of Development at KEXP. “Cheryl forwarded your email because it was so sweet and encouraging,” she wrote. “Since you’re in Seattle, we wanted to invite you to come by the station for a tour!.. We’d love to meet you and show you around.”

Within the half-hour, I was walking up to the front doors of KEXP, as giddy as if I were about to meet my childhood idol. I entered the station to find Aubrey sitting on the couch, awaiting me with a million-watt smile on her face. She stood, and I saw she was on crutches. “Stress fracture in my pelvis,” she told me in a matter-of-fact tone that in no way belied the amount of pain she had to be in. And so our tour began.

As Aubrey led me from room to room, introducing me to DJs and other staff members as we went, we chatted almost like old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while. When we reached the KEXP music library, and I became as entranced as a kid in a candy store, Aubrey asked, “Would you like me to take your picture?” Holding herself as steady as she could on her crutches, Aubrey snapped the photo with my digital camera. It came out a bit blurry, but I didn’t mind. I was just so impressed with this cheerful girl who wasn’t about to let a broken pelvis keep her down.

At the end of my visit, Aubrey mentioned that the station was still in need of phone volunteers for the Morning Show that Monday and asked me if I might be interested in helping out. The shift would begin at 5:45 a.m. Without a moment’s hesitation, I said yes. And that would turn out to be one of the best decisions I ever made. It would be the beginning of a long-standing relationship with KEXP as a friend, donor, and volunteer (whenever I come to town). It introduced me to a community of people who felt like family as soon as we met, and a place that immediately felt like home. Best of all, it was the beginning of my friendship with Aubrey Bean. My life, along with the numerous other lives she touched, would not have been the same without her.

What I didn’t know on that October evening in 2008 was that Aubrey’s “stress fracture” was actually a recurrence of colon cancer, metastasized in her pelvic bone. And as our friendship grew, I would witness Aubrey’s strength, courage, and radiant spirit as she fought her nearly five-year battle with that devastating disease. And I would share in Aubrey’s seemingly boundless love for those who were lucky enough to be part of her life.

On June 17, 2013, I received a phone call from Chris, Aubrey’s husband. After several days at home in hospice care, Aubrey had passed away that morning. A month later, I flew out to Seattle to attend her memorial service, and what I encountered there was truly a testament to this beautiful person and indelible spirit who had briefly graced us with her presence. I left Seattle with many more friends than I had when I arrived, and I’m sure that wherever Aubrey is now, she is smiling.

When Aubrey was recovering from one of her surgeries, I sent her a care package that contained a plush green monkey. A totally goofy stuffed animal with long gangly arms and legs that just made me grin at the sight of it. The monkey was my way of supporting her from two thousand miles away, to give her the hugs I couldn’t give her in person. After she passed, Chris told me that in her final days, Aubrey had that green monkey by her side. I will always regret that I didn’t get to see Aubrey one last time, but it helps to know that in a way, I was with her.

Aubrey’s friendship, and the experience of losing her, taught me that if there is something I want to do, I should do it. Right now. Don’t wait. Don’t put it off. Don’t let fear or anxiety or any other obstacle stand in my way. The thing I want to do most, and have wanted to do for a long time, is write. So here I am.

Shortly after Aubrey died, I bought a plush green monkey for myself, just like the one I had given her years before. I suppose I hoped it would in some way help me to stay connected to her across this infinite distance that now separated us. It is with this same hope that I have started writing this blog. To connect. To put my thoughts, memories, stories, and struggles out there, and to see what comes back. To all of you who are reading this, thank you. And to Aubrey — thank you most of all. I hope that wherever you are now, you are smiling.

The green monkey takes Seattle.