Eulogy II: The Memory That Stayed She told stories about The Beatles and the girls who scooped up the dust like it was holy—silly, she said. But she never made you feel silly for needing love. She looked at you like you were already someone. And when you forgot who you were, you could look back at her gaze and remember. She was not a long chapter. She was a few pages folded in time. But you read them so often, the ink is still wet in your memory. And here you are, decades later, standing in the same dirt, older now, carrying your own songs, trying to find the note she once sang into your soul. Yes, Robert—she loved you. That’s what the wind keeps telling you. That’s what the road back to Anderson whispered. And maybe she did say goodbye. But what matters is that she turned to say it.