Michael Torres

My Aunt Eleanor was, without a doubt, the most elegant troublemaker I've ever known. And I mean that as the highest compliment.

Growing up, every summer I'd spend a couple of weeks at her house, and those weeks were pure magic. She had this rule — she called it "the adventure of the day." Every morning she'd announce that we were going to do one thing we'd never done before. Some days it was grand, like driving two hours to see the ocean. Some days it was small, like learning to make her famous lemon cake from scratch. But there was always an adventure.

She was my mother's sister, and after my mom passed, Eleanor stepped in without ever being asked. She never tried to replace her. She just made sure I always had someone in my corner. She'd call on my birthday, every year, and sing to me — badly, on purpose, because it made us both laugh.

The last time I saw her, she took my hand and she said, "Michael, promise me you'll keep having adventures." And I promised her I would. She filled every room she entered with warmth, with laughter, and with love. And a person like that — you don't lose them. You just keep carrying their light.