Last May, at the American Alliance of Museums Annual Meeting — which by great fortune took place in Seattle — there was a tribute honoring an esteemed colleague in the field who had recently passed away. In the video, the director of the National Museum of African Art, Johnette Betsch Cole, summoned the wisdom of an African proverb which states, “As long as a person’s name is called, that person never dies.”

Those words gave me goosebumps. They still do, in fact. Because ever since Aubrey passed away, I have heard and seen her name everywhere, sometimes in the most unusual of circumstances. The world is constantly calling her name. And each time I hear her name, she seems very much alive.

It began on my flight to Seattle to attend Aubrey’s memorial service. I was seated next to a friendly young man, and we made occasional small talk throughout the flight. He asked why I was traveling to Seattle and expressed his sympathies when I told him. When we landed and were permitted to turn on our phones, I saw a photo of an adorable baby on his phone and commented on how cute she was. My neighbor smiled and replied, “That’s Aubrey.” My breath caught in my chest, and I’m pretty sure my heart skipped at least a few beats. I told him this was the name of my friend who had passed away, an unbelievable coincidence. Little did I know it would be far from the last.

A few months later, Alan and I were out to dinner at one of our regular spots, Max & Erma’s. In the middle of the meal, Alan noticed something behind me and pointed. “Look at that.” I turned around in my seat and saw it. On the wall by the sundae station, a sign advertising kids’ night on Tuesdays, featuring “face painting by Aubrey.” This time I wasn’t as startled. I just smiled at the welcome reminder of my dear friend.

Face painting by Aubrey.

When I returned to Seattle for the AAM conference last May, I brought a couple of friends to the Seattle Aquarium, one of my favorite spots in the city — mainly for the almost unbearably cute sea otters. As luck would have it, we arrived just in time for a feeding and demonstration at the sea otter habitat. There were three aquarium staff members inside the enclosure, and one of them was equipped with a microphone, as she would be leading the presentation. Her name? Aubrey. Of course.

The following evening over dinner, I recounted this latest name sighting to Chris. He remarked on how he could imagine Aubrey enjoying all of these things herself — face painting, feeding sea otters. He also told me that the aquarium was the last place where he and Aubrey had enjoyed a date night before her health took a turn for the worse. Far from coincidence, I am certain that I encountered a girl named Aubrey at the aquarium precisely to remind Chris of that evening. To bring that memory back to life.

Then there was the flyer in my local coffee shop, for a massage therapist named Aubrey. I snapped a photo, both to document the new sighting and to get her contact information. Because a masseuse named Aubrey had to be good, right? I sent an email to her right away, but I never heard back. Curious, I began to poke around online, and I didn’t find much. Just a Facebook page she had created for her practice, last updated three years ago, almost to the day that I first found the flyer. So I wouldn’t be getting a massage from Aubrey’s namesake anytime soon. I took it as another welcome sign that my friend was still around.

Recently, I began volunteering at the Cleveland Animal Protective League, in the cat adoption room. (Stay tuned for a new blog chronicling my feline adventures!) Within the first hour of my first shift, I knew it was the best decision I had ever made. On my second day at the APL, an adorable family came in looking to adopt a cat — a mother and her two young daughters. One of the girls wore a cat-print shirt with cat-print leggings to match, and a Hello Kitty purse to complete the look. Her mother told me she had chosen this outfit specifically for the occasion. A few minutes later, the girl in cat-print ran off to one of the cat playrooms, and her mother called out after her. “Aubrey!” I blinked a few times and shook my head, figuring I must have been hearing things. But the mom called to her daughter again, “Aubrey! Aub!” When Chris heard about this, he asked me if I knew that before she got very sick, Aubrey had been looking into volunteering at a local cat shelter. Well. It’s no wonder she so clearly approved.

Truly, there have been too many Aubrey sightings to include them all here. And the list is growing all the time. I hope it never stops growing. I will never tire of hearing Aubrey’s name — it will always bring a smile to my face and a warmth to my heart. For all of us who knew her, the name Aubrey became synonymous with light, love, wisdom, compassion, courage, and sheer joy. And I feel all of these things, each time I hear her name. I’m sure we all do. So let’s keep calling her name.

Happy birthday, dear Aubrey.

Photo by Liz Hart.