He had invited two friends, a nurse named Priya and a childhood friend named Marcus.

Both knew about the reunion and greeted me without making it an event.

We ate pasta.

Tobias teased Marcus for once locking the keys inside a car while the engine ran.

Priya told a story about a hospital fundraiser in which a physician had accidentally bid on his own donated painting.

I listened, delighted and occasionally overwhelmed by the ordinary details of my son’s life.

People who loved him knew his favorite dishes, his terrible puns, and the way he went quiet when worried.