February 4, 2011

Last Saturday, Shohrae passed away from cancer.  She was intelligent, witty, funny, and beautiful.  All together, she intimidated the hell out of men.

We barely knew each other in high school.  Her cousin and I entered first grade together and the three of us graduated at the same time.  A friend of mine from orchestra wanted to date Shohrae and somehow got her to be his Homecoming date though she wasn’t interested.  To me, she was the pretty girl in the Flag Corps and since then, she is one of the only people that I will allow to call me “Pauly/Paulie.”

In college, we were both in student government and I’m guessing that it was there that we became friends.  In medical school in Houston, she went on to be the president of their version of student government and I was so proud of her.  She liked government.  When there were protests over the Iranian elections, she was scared to go to one alone and ended up doing it.  She did a couple more after that.  We were in opposite political parties but she wanted to do campaign work with me when she no longer had cancer.

I have no idea how many times I met her at the airport when she flew into Dallas but for her, I would drop whatever I was doing to get her.  A year and a half ago, I stopped picking her up from the airport after she learned she had cancer.  She was so positive throughout a lot of it.  She had her down times but I tried to keep my promise to her when she first texted me that she was sick.  She wanted me to tell her that she was still pretty when she lost all her hair.  Every time I saw her, I would tell her that she was beautiful.  She was.  I have good group of friends in Houston that I used to see regularly and whenever I was in town, I had to choose between seeing them or seeing her.  She won every time.

I don’t know the specifics around the cancer.  I tend to not ask those kinds of questions.  I won’t ask how you’re feeling.  Instead, I want to know if you’ve seen the latest episode of “Top Chef.”  Shohrae and I were really into Top Chef.

We talked about men a lot.

Nobody wrote a text message like Shohrae.

She said things like “Fo Sho” as a play on her name.  As a consequence, I would send her photos when I saw “Sho” in public.

We had a lot of tequila, especially margaritas.

She loved my husband, Michael.

A friend called her “Such a light in our world.”  She was.  I loved her and I’ll miss her.


One comment

  1. Paul – that is so sweet. It is a shame to loose someone so young, but more of a shame for a long life to be not as well lived…

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