She was the life of the party, she was everyone’s best friend. She was compassionate and kind. She was hilarious and irreverent and could literally make you laugh until you cried. She was talented and beautiful. She was charming and tortured and artistic and adventurous. She didn’t care what people thought of her, and she loved practical jokes. She loved show-tunes and trips to New York to see Broadway shows. She believed in magic and Harry Potter. She loved to snowboard and rock climb. We had a family tradition early on, as soon as she found out the truth about Santa Claus, that every Xmas, we would travel instead of doing Xmas at home. Some of my fondest memories of Cassidy were on our annual vacations at Xmas time: New York, Disney World, Universal Studios, Hawaii, Park City, Quebec, Whistler.
She went full throttle in everything she did. There was no half-way with Cassidy. She never stopped playing dress-up her whole life and never missed an opportunity to go to a Harry Potter Premiere in her Gryffindor robe carrying her wand. In retrospect, I think she always used make-believe as her escape from her inside pain. She had so many sides of her and could easily slide in to any group and fit right in immediately.
Some of my favorite memories were road-trips to the beach singing at the top of our lungs to show tunes or other music favorites and harmonizing together.
When Cassidy was at her best and healthiest, she was the brightest and most beautiful star in the night sky. She has now become her own super nova. Cassidy always had a connection with and deep love of butterflies. To her (and to me) they came to symbolize her grandmother, my mother, who died of cancer 11 years ago. We always waited for Cassidy to emerge from her cocoon and to truly reach her potential in life. Because we all knew she could achieve anything she ever dreamed of. Truth is, she has now, finally reached her potential, but it meant she truly had to leave behind her mortal covering.