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Faded Sandpaper

...And Colin's Character?  You Be The Judge

On January 25, 2021, 25-year-old Colin Hiriak was performing his job as a software engineer from our family home when his mother noticed something disturbing.  After a short walk outside, Colin's entire face had turned yellow.  Ten minutes to become visible, and a week to diagnosis, cholangiocarcinoma - a dangerous cancer that attacks the bile ducts around the liver altered Colin's life forever.  Over the next sixteen months, Colin faced innumerable challenges, any of which singularly could have caused a person to give up. But Colin never did, and a love story played a large role in keeping him going.

 

During his first hospital stay, Colin met a medical student and they fell in love.  It was a special love because they are both very special people.  This young woman stood by Colin through every phase of his fight and faced every challenge with the same honesty, dignity, and courage as Colin.  We hope she knows how lucky Colin was to have found her and how much his family loves her.

If our true character is most evident during difficult times, she is the best judge of Colin's character since she only met him after his cancer diagnosis.  She never knew him when he was healthy.  Following is her memorial to Colin.  Judge for yourself.  After reading her thoughts, we believe that you will agree that a foundation in Colin's name will need to achieve very high standards of excellence to do his legacy justice.

"My Nook"

When I think of Colin, I think of his warmth.  

I think of his physical warmth as I cuddle against him on the couch watching TV, my head resting on that spot on his chest, and his arms around me.  "My nook," the spot my heart calls home.

I think of the warmth in his smile.  That completely disarming, comforting, and asymmetrical smile/smirk where he only lifts the left side of his mouth.  Yet, his smile reaches those deep blue eyes, and they look at me filled with love.

I think of the warmth in his heart.  His generosity, thoughtfulness, selflessness, and kindness that he shows to every person he meets.  The way he goes above and beyond for other people.  Like the time he got me flowers after a difficult week at the hospital, despite having chemotherapy himself.  Or how he talked me through a panic attack, despite just receiving devastating news.  He happily listens to me vent about silly, unimportant things, and rarely laments about his own situation.  He takes me on adventures - dinners, movies, trips - and never complains about the pain he's feeling from the horrible illness eating him.  He gives me memories, happiness, and love selflessly.

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His spirit and personality make him special, in a way that's obvious to everyone around him.  He's so respected at work, that his coworkers beg for him to recover and return.  He adorably goes down "rabbit holes" learning the most about the latest tech gadgets, finding new recipes or foods to try, stalking Huckberry's catalogue, or planning future trips.  He's the cutest nerd when it comes to his favorite movies, TV shows, or video games, offering recommendations on what he thinks others will enjoy.  He isn't afraid to be silly; he proudly shows me he can move his nose and walks around unashamed in my heart robe and purple socks to make me laugh.  

When I think of Colin's passing, I am only left with questions.  How can someone so undeserving be given such suffering?  How can the world possibly benefit from the loss of someone with so much goodness in his heart to give? These questions make no sense and have no answer.  The only way to honor Colin's memory is to go forward living by his example of positivity, strength and resilience.  I choose to further his legacy by giving others the same warmth and love he gave me.

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