It’s been eight months since you were granted your wings – beautiful, grand, and golden – the much deserved wings that I wish you could have spread in this lifetime and not have to wait until your after life.
I am, by the way, convinced you are living it up on a scale beyond measure – cooking and eating a feast with Mom (not too sweet because you don’t like your food too sweet – lol), dancing with Ruby and Rose, and even having a good laugh with Dad…
These imaginings bring me a tiny bit of solace and diminish the grief I regularly feel from the loss of your physical presence. You’re still in my top five favorites on my iPhone list and I often see your name and for a split second, I feel like I can call you – and laugh and talk and just check in on life with you. Then reality sets in, mostly with a tear shed, or a dark feeling of dread as the image of you in your hospital bed that last night continues to haunt me.
When you passed away, something in each of us, your siblings, went with you and was forever lost to us. A brightness, a piece of joy that we will not be able to get back. And we ALL feel it.
Ren, you could have played the prince in every made for TV Christmas movie ever broadcast. Your elegance, down to earth bearing, understated magnificence, and deep caring set you apart. People loved you and you didn’t even have to try to produce that effect because it was a natural response to your humanity and goodness. Everyone saw it and was attracted to your light.
I know that for your lifetime partner, Gail, life without you is practically unbearable. I can only imagine the devastating feelings of loss she deals with every day. Youʻll be glad to know that Tess and Nikki are there and they are holding it together.
Oh how I wish for secret Thanksgiving, playing by the creek in the woods above our house on High Street in Oregon City, sharing the attic room with you and reading in our self made, cleverly hidden reading den (no girls allowed!), meeting you at Stars in San Francisco with your famous chef friends, weekends in Monterey with you, Gail, and the girls, walking around your garden with you marveling at your beloved succulents, and Bali – can you say Bali?! Innumerable memories that unfortunately will not be enough to assuage the depth of sadness I still wallow in on a regular basis.
None of us was surprised by the outpouring of love when we held your celebration of life. The sheer number of friends who came from near and far to fête you and offer their condolences while eating and drinking into the wee hours at your cherished Strada was but a glimmer, a sliver of the huge swath of love and warmth you cut through this world.
So now, we push through every day to live as you would have wanted us to with an unstoppable joie de vivre. Your selflessness allowed each of us to thrive, aspire to be better. I, for one, will not disappoint you. Cheers, my brother.
Love you, Ren.
We Must Be the Change 
Thank you for your excellent writing Lude, you have that special gift.
We are all continuing on with life sans René, a void I will never be able to replace. Today I am reminiscing of all the fond memories we had together, individually and as a family.
I have learned much from all of you, my younger siblings, and you are all special to me. Love you Lude.
I wish I could have known your wonderful brother René. I know he was so well loved by you and everyone who had the honor of knowing him.