When my 16 yo son, Zach, was killed last August, I was at a loss as to what to write for a tribute for the memorial service. That was left up to me - my husband's family (mom, brothers) insisted on writing my husband's tribute. I remember picking up the pen and staring at the paper in front of me for an eternity. I existed in such a state of utter disbelief that I couldn't even cry. I was completely numb. It came to me that perhaps Tina - a very good friend of Zach's - would be willing to help me out. I hated to put her on the spot, as she is a very retiring ( but brilliant!) girl, but I thought it was for a good cause...it was for Zach. Here is my son's tribute..."I had the distinct privilege of knowing Zach for the better part of three years, and the honor of being his friend. I was asked to say a few words in his memory, and it's actually kind of funny, because of all people, Zach knew precisely how much I hate being the center of attention. It's so in his character to have found a way to mess with me one last time.Knowing Zach was a real experience. A bit of an odd once, in my case, given that in all the time we knew each other, I actually only met him once. We didn't have much in the way of face-to-face conversations, but what we did have was an exchange of over a hundred and thirty thousand Facebook messages. Despite the impersonal medium, we got to know each other remarkably well. In some cases, better than most people did.There aren't enough hours in the day to go into all the ways that Zach was extraordinary. He had an amazing sense of humor, unbeatable enthusiasm, and excellent taste in music. He knew exactly who he was and who he wanted to be, and he wouldn't sacrifice that integrity for anyone—which, these days, is a hard quality to find. He had all these passions and interests; never could stick with just one hobby, he had to try them all. In just the time I knew him, he must have gone through twenty of them, including things like photography, welding, architecture, chemistry, mechanics, and psychology. Not exactly light reading.One of the things I knew the best about Zach was that he was absolutely brilliant. He had this fascinating, kaleidoscopic mind full of all these ideas and concepts and theories and opinions. There are more times than I would care to admit when we would stay up and talk until some ungodly hour of the morning simply because neither of us wanted to ruin the discussion for something as pedestrian as the need for sleep. It was easy to forget that he was only sixteen, because he could track with whatever topic you'd care to introduce, no matter how advanced or convoluted. We spent a lot of time imagining how we would solve the problems of the world if it were up to us, and even came up with some pretty good solutions. Although admittedly, most of Zach's involved setting things on fire.Another thing about Zach that was incredible to see was how much he cared about people. If you were important to him, he would never let you forget it, and he refused to just stand by if there was something he could do to help. I once expressed my frustrations about being strapped for cash, and his response was to come up with a list of arbitrary projects for me to complete for him, just so he would have an excuse to pay me. He was thoughtful in ways you wouldn't expect, and in some cases, ways you wouldn't even believe. One instance in particular, he went to a concert that I had really wanted to attend, and to make up for the fact that I couldn't be there, I kid you not, he actually tracked down the artist after the show and got him to record a personal message for me. I even have the audio clip to prove it. And it wasn't just limited to me, either. He had no problem inconveniencing himself for the sake of his friends, and always looked out for the best interests of other people—even those who had wronged him. He asked for advice a number of times on how to cheer up this friend or that acquaintance because he couldn't stand to see them upset, and he would say the kindest, most encouraging things to people just because it was the decent thing to do. If I could end up being half as selfless, I would consider my life well-lived.And what was surprising was that even despite all of that, he always sold himself short. Never had an ego to speak of, and didn't often feel like he deserved the compliments he would get. In fact, he'd probably be mortified at how big of a deal I'm making about him, but from what I've heard, he never passed up an opportunity to make a big deal about me, and it would be a disservice to him if I didn't try and get him back for it somehow.I'm not sure how to end this, because Zach and I never had much in the way of goodbyes, and I wouldn't want to ruin that—especially now. Because even under the circumstances, as easy as it is to forget, it's not actually goodbye at all; just a pause in the conversation. So here's to Zach. Everything he was, and more importantly, everything he still is to all of us."Zach, I love you with all my heart. I miss you every day. Sometimes I see pictures of you and I start wailing. But, a lot of the time, they make me grin. You know - big, huge, goofy grins! Remember how we used to make faces in the hallway mirror together? You were the funniest kid ever. Not one second of your life was wasted. I am struck by that every time I read Tina's tribute (and I've read it a LOT!). May my God grant me the grace to live that kind of life for the time I have left. I would consider it an honour. Along with Tina, I consider the time we are apart "a pause in the conversation." We are going to have one heck of a conversation when we see each other again, and to consider that it will never have to end is a joy I can't express. I will be forever proud of you.Mom