Lissa's influence was a quiet revolution: it reshaped priorities from accumulation to attention, from noise to listening. The gift she left was simple and demanding — be present, choose well, act kindly. It was a charge to live with intention, not as a performance but as a practice, day by day. And so, when he thinks of Lissa Aires — that one friend of his — he hears, beneath memory's surface, an invitation: not merely to remember, but to carry forward the steady light she embodied.
