It’s hard to believe that 14 years ago, I was freshly 26 years old, recently graduated from Winona State, ready to start real life. I was mulling over the 2 job offers I’d received, one in Texas, one in Colorado. I’d been busy researching cost of living, apartments, and looking at online classified ads looking for roommates. I was ready for adventure, but wasn’t sure which was the best fit.

Ultimately, I was headed for the biggest adventure of my life, but the best fit was right here in Minnesota- Mr. Aaron Dubé. On May 21, I celebrated my recent graduation with my family and friends at my apartment. My dad grilled some hot dogs, I made potato salad, and bought some beer. After spending the day chatting with everyone, 2 pals and I went out for some more beer and pizza. These are the last pictures I have of my life before Aaron.

My friends and I were sitting at a table near Aaron’s friends, and two of our friends were chatting with another person. We ended up chatting, laughing, and exchanging numbers. Walking home later that night, I told my friends I should marry him someday. He called the next day, claimed he would be in my neighborhood, and stopped by. We ended up grilling, sitting outside, talking, and laughing from that day on.

Most days I try to do what I can to honor Aaron, to keep his laughter, his kindness, and his generous spirit alive. Some days I do better than others. Today, I did plenty to reminisce. I heard a song that made me sob, then intentionally listened to it 3 more times, and sobbed each time. I miss so many things about him, and I just happened to think how differently my life would have been if I had gone to Texas, Colorado, or had just stayed home on May 21st, 2005. The answer is simple. If I had never met Aaron, my life would have been worse. If I’d never known his smile, his laugh, and his love, my life would have been worse. I have so many memories that still make me belly laugh, and I hope they still make me laugh when I’m 90.

Whenever Aaron would order a drink, he would puff out his chest and say “Bacardi Coke” and a strangely macho way because he knew I would cry from laughing as soon as the waitress turned around. And because we both knew he’d rather have a rum punch or painkiller, but the manly-voice won.

Aaron was the kind of person you’d want in your corner. He was helpful, fearless, and made you feel like you were the most important person in the world when you were with him. He is loved, he’s missed, and he truly made the world a much better place.

I added a few silly home videos below in hopes that his joyful demeanor still brings joy to all. Xo