Alex introduced his friend Liz Hughes to his friend Gorby Boyadzhyan a couple of years ago. This weekend, September 22, they were married.
Liz was like a sister to Alex. He had his own room in her 100-year-old Victorian flat in Santa Barbara. They ate together and, with Gorby and other friends, were a family.
Alex and Liz worked together a Devereaux with autistic 10 year olds. I remember Alex calling me one evening. He was in the van. Liz was driving, and I could hear the commotion of kids in the background.
“Mom! How ya’ doin’!? Yah, Liz and I are taking the kids to Chez Paris!”
“You mean Burger King?”
“How’d you know that’s where we’re going!!?”
“Alex, when you were 10, I would not have taken YOU to Chez Paris. I don’t think you’re going to be taking a passel of 10 year olds there!”
“Mom, I gotta’ go. They’re pulling Liz’s hair, and I think she’s crying!”
It was with Liz that he tested saying out loud that he was in love with Paige. It was Wednesday before Alex was killed. Liz was doing dishes in her large, wooden kitchen. Alex was Swiffering the floor.
“I think I’m in love with Paige,” he confided to Liz.
“You THINK you’re in love with her. I KNOW you’re in love with her.”
Liz and Gorby had their dogs in their wedding. Liz said it was Alex’s idea. He would say, “You two are getting married, and I’M walking the dogs down the aisle.”
So the dogs were in the wedding in honor of Alex. Paige walked them down the aisle.
Congratulations and much love to Liz and Gorby.