When we originally asked for stories about Tim, we had no idea what we were going to receive. Then they came in multitude, in all forms imaginable from photographs to poems, from songs to anecdotes. They have been funny, heartwarming and educational. We have found so much joy in this form of celebration that we invite you to continue this sharing here.

Posted by Anthony on Fri Oct 31, 2008 3:58 pm

It was a beautiful, blue-sky day in New York City today, and through it I've been trying to think about Tim's life, and the inestimable enrichment of my own life for having had him in it, rather than the pain of having to live in a world without him.

I hope you're all feeling OK today. Much love to all of Timmy's friends and family.

Posted by Graziella on Fri Oct 31, 2008 3:43 pm

I am constantly aware of your passing, and of your presence. It seems to hurt more today than it did yesterday. I feel you in the music I believe you send to me, and I hear and feel all of your messages and reassurances. I hear your laughter all the time. I miss you.

Posted by Tim's cousin Mary on Fri Oct 31, 2008 12:51 pm

I don't remember much from childhood. The things I do recall involve mostly Tim and laughter. Climbing trees, kick-the-can, searching for four (five) leaf clovers, basketball, wiffleball, cards, ginger bread cookie eating, riding down Gram's bannister, coloring, drinking coke, exploring Gram's house, & making ghosts out of plastic shopping bags and coat hangers for halloween haunted houses in his basement. I've been looking back on those days my whole life, we lived them so well. I knew Tim had collected them somewhere. Especially since he never threw anything out.

This one memory I have of Tim is so lucid: We were little and raced up Gram's stairs to look at the archived family photo albums. Tim took out our albums and started flipping pages quickly, giggling the whole way. The two of us knew these pictures by heart, but Timmy paused at one page. I believe it was Steve and Jerry being silly in a photograph. Tim pointed and started laughing uncontrollably saying "ahh!!!! i remember that!! ahhh!!!! hahaha steve! he's so funny, my family's so funny. I love my family." A phrase I've become accustomed to hearing from him forever on the phone or on the Amtrak going home for the holidays.

My time spent with Tim in New York was so important. We liked central park and sitting in sheep's meadow with sandwiches before sunset and having great conversation. It is probably what I miss most, the talking. We loved reminiscing our memories, but I think it was our later conversations in life, figuring out who we had become over time and the types of people we wanted to be I found most meaningful. That mattered to him, how he affected the world. Those thoughts prevailed over achievements and social status, the issues that usually cloud a person's mind. Tim was special because I could always be myself and he was engaged in everything we talked about either silly or intellectual, he treated everything with equal significance. Tim was objective and open-minded when discussing art, religion, politics, what have you. He was constantly constructing his opinions with thoughtfulness. It made him interesting, but more than anything it made him powerful. I was impressed by the person he had become and the wisdom he had gained in such a short period of time.

Lastly, I loved running around New York with Tim to concerts, art shows, etc. I have a lot of weird friends and strange crowds. Every person I ever introduced him to made a point to tell me how much they liked my cousin soon after meeting him. He fit in everywhere and he fit in nowhere. It made me feel so proud to be related to Tim.

Posted by Amy Dorrien Traisci (friend of Carla) on Fri Oct 31, 2008 11:49 am

Though I never met Tim, I can see through this website and the wonderful comments from friends and family, that he was an exceptional person. Their words are a testament to the fact that he was and continues to be a strong presence in their lives. I have no doubt that he is looking down on all of you and sending much love and comfort. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

Posted by Pete on Fri Oct 31, 2008 11:16 am

on this 1 year anniversary, I wanted to share a story: On that awful morning of Oct 31, 2007, Jerry and I were driving from Brigham and Women's Hospital to our apartment in Boston. Both of us were silent, confused, and scared. We had no idea what to say to each other, both knowing that any words or attempts at trying to deal with what we were feeling would be pointless. I turned on the radio, in an attempt to get my mind off what was happening, and the million thoughts racing through my head. Playing on the radio at that time was "Everybody Hurts" by REM. We both listened intently, and when the song was over, i said "I cannot believe that song was on the radio," and Jerry replied, "I can, it was Timmy playing it." I haven't thought of that moment for a long time, but for some reason I was reminded of it today. So I decided to look up the lyrics, just to see what it was really all about. Jerry was right, in typical Timmy fashion, he was trying to comfort and be there for us...

Everybody Hurts
When the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone,
When you're sure you've had enough of this life, well hang on
Don't let yourself go, 'cause everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong. Now it's time to sing along
When your day is night alone, (hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go, (hold on)
When you think you've had too much of this life, well hang on

'Cause everybody hurts. Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts. Don't throw your hand. Oh, no. Don't throw your hand
If you feel like you're alone, no, no, no, you are not alone

If you're on your own in this life, the days and nights are long,
When you think you've had too much of this life to hang on

Well, everybody hurts sometimes,
Everybody cries. And everybody hurts sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes. So, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts. You are not alone

Posted by Carla on Fri Oct 31, 2008 10:41 am

Dear Tiny Cookie (Tim) and friends,
I miss you. I am so lost right now, but I know that you see me; that you see all of us and continue to hug us, support us, believe in us. I know that you hear me when I ask ou for guidance or help, and I know that you feel my joys, pains, laughter. What you continue to offer each of us is your unconditional love. Your friendship offered and continues to offer me the most pure and honest form on unconditional love that is possible.

And so, here I sit today, feeling kind of alone and overwhelmed in Quito, Ecuador. I don't want to be here, and I know that you feel my isolation and frustration. I want to go home. I want to feel that I am in better control of my day, my stomach, my son. But you know best that life throws us into unfair and at times unkind situations. You taught us that it is up to us pusevere in the face of those experiences with kindness and fairness anyway. And today, on the one-year-anniversary of your passing, I want you to know that your friendship, and the ever-present awareness of your shortened life, drives me to figure this all out. And I will. However, it also drives me to make the most of each day, even though I am here. There are infinate beauties, grand and small, all around me here. Those same beauities that I wrote to you about when this land was a dream utopia to me, before I was forced to overstay my welcome here. I know that you would not take those beauties for granted: The smile on the wrikled little old man who delights in the sales of his $2 sunglasses on th street. The emereld green glow against the mountains and sunset. The silver angel on the hill who towers over the city, gaurding us and comforting us. The Cala Lillies that grow wild, riverside.

You help me each day, to find humor and beauty during this challenging time.
I send you my love, and know that you send your's.
Always, Carla

Posted by Nick on Fri Oct 31, 2008 9:01 am

If I ever thought that things would turn out this way, I would have stopped strangers on the street and presented Tim to them as the world’s ideal friend.

If I ever suspected that this would happen, I would have recorded every moment with Tim to look back and remember how he behaved. Behavior that included: occasionally washing his face with mouth wash, reading a book every week, taking great care of plants, never taking his phone off vibrate, looking to the Daily Show for real news, giving without expectations, free-styling about hygiene in the shower, meditating daily, hanging crayon drawings on our fridge, eating fruit like it was going out of style, living in the moment, and (subconsciously) dancing in front of the stove while cooking (something spicy, of course! In fact, I’m not sure Tim enjoyed a meal unless his nose was running!) Overwhelming, and very personal, to me are these little things that I miss more than anything else.

Over one year, I’ve learned that losing Tim is very private (for me). I feel almost afraid to say too much knowing that, no matter what, it won’t feel like enough. What can I say or do that will measure up to the friend that Tim was for me?...Nothing. For me, that’s a fact.

Then, that Tim-mentality kicks in and I feel him right next to me. A wave of relief crashes so loud that I glance around the room looking for Tim. I start to remember that, with Tim, there are no worries. Everything is positive, and to relax with Tim never requires talking.

While it is extremely likely that we all miss Tim in our own unique way, it is certain that Tim is still here…waiting for any opportunity to help.

Posted by Christine on Fri Oct 31, 2008 8:40 am

My thoughts and prayers are with the Morelli family today. I woke up this morning and read the prayer card from Tim's funeral, as I often do, and looked at the photo of his kind face. I will carry these words from the Dalai Lama's prayer with me again today in his memory, "Today I am fortunate to have woken up, I am alive, I have a precious human life, I am not going to waste it......."

Posted by Karen on Fri Oct 31, 2008 7:28 am

I never met Timmy, not face-to-face, not in any physical sense of the word "meet." But I know him, I feel like I know him well. I am the best friend of Shaina and for the past many years I have seen the grace and tenderness of Timmy shine through her. Because of Shain'a wonderful energy and appreciation of Timmy, I got the opportunity to meet him halfway through her. I know he listened to the mix cd's I made for Shaina and even communication through music with this person who obviously made an everlasting mark on the people of his world, makes me feel attached and blessed. My warmest thoughts go to his family and to Shaina, who tries so hard to be who Timmy would expect her to continue being. - Karen

Posted by Shaina Rafal on Fri Oct 31, 2008 7:17 am

I can't say much right now. I just wanted to leave my favorite letter I ever got from Timmy. To me, it encompasses everything Timmy- right down to the spelling error:) (I love and miss you so much, Timmy. But you already know that). Here's the letter:

Miss You

And your colorfully stained sweatshirt, I have a nice oil stained sweater, I think they'ed be friends