For the first time since Marisa died, I visited the cancer clinic.

For a place that has hundred of people go through there every day, people seemed to notice me.  The receptionist for the whole building, the social worker, the librarian, many of the blood work nurses, the ladies in the supportive care unit, the chemo nurses, the receptionists for a number of the different areas, the clinical trial nurses, many of the volunteers and even the parking guy.

They remembered my face because they all remembered Marisa.

That is because Marisa is a rock star.

I remember walking out of the hospital (the clinic and the hospital are two buildings joined together) after Marisa died thinking that it would be strange not going there on a regular basis anymore.  The cancer centre was a part of our regular schedule for more than 11 months.  And then one day you walk out and that is it.

So I went back to say thank you to many of the people that Marisa loved.  The head clinical trial nurse, Robin, said to me today that Marisa was so lovely to work with.  That Marisa was such a fighter and that she had beautiful grace.

Robin is right.  The private Marisa was the public Marisa.  What you saw and heard was Marisa herself.  Her creed was the same as her conduct.  Many people can not say that about others.  I can.

That is why is hurts so much that she is gone.

I miss my rock star.