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On Tuesday, March 25th, we lost a dear friend in Liz Logelin.

I have been struggling trying to understand or explain or even fathom how this could happen. We had a celebration of Liz on Saturday in LA, overflowing with people and stories, grief and sadness, memories, laughter and smiles.

Matt let us know in advance that the service would be a little bit different than most, and that there would be a chance to speak if we wanted to share anything about Liz. I got up to speak, and I told this story about a supernova:

There are billions upon billions of stars in the night sky, and most of those stars, when they die, slowly fade away and go dark. What’s left is a hunk of rock is that floats around without much notice from anyone.

But sometimes, under just the right conditions, when the star is just the right size, gives off a certain amount of light and has just the right energy, if that star has all the special qualities, something completely different happens.

These stars become supernovas. The star explodes into a beautiful display of light and color and energy, heading off in every direction. They are the most beautiful things to see with a telescope in the sky, and the memory of that star is left for all to see and marvel at.

The supernova is lit not just from itself, but also from all of the stars nearby, shining through and illuminating it.

We will remember Liz for her incredible light and energy and love that she gave to all around her.