In your honour

It’s taken me all these months to enter this site about Mia. After her passing I spent the summer in Brazil, in many ways escaping the intensity of her last weeks here in San Diego. All along I was somehow reluctant to log on for fear of the emotion it would provoke. Well today it did just that. Big time. Yet, I’m happy to have gone through it, because all the beautiful things written about her brought back only the best of memories. As if she were here again, I could see her sitting cross-legged in a café, looking fabulous while being relaxed and entertaining as only Mia could. Part of her charm was how naturally she fit in to every situation, and how her unassuming attitude made everyone around her feel so comfortable. Mia lit up the room, but had no airs about it at all.

I met Mia close to 14 years ago in Marbella, and we often hung out at the same social events with shared friends. Yet it wasn’t until I had the *privilege* to be her roommate in New York City that we really got to know each other as adults, and instantly became inseparable partners in crime. I found us an apartment in the LES before she ever arrived -- the perfect pad and neighborhood for two people each starting a new life in the city. Her passion for New York was insatiable and contagious. We were never bored and rarely at home, preferring to spend hours on end -- whole afternoons -- at our local bar/café on the corner of Clinton and Stanton, (which is where she met Adam).

I think Mia and I hit it off so well because of our common interests: We had passion for human rights work, media and journalism, (being fabulous and funny), and particularly a love of children. Mia had a knack for kids – they loved her, and she never stopped going on about her nieces and nephews. When I introduced her to my own nephew Max, his greetings to me immediately changed from “Yaay, Andy’s here!” to “Hi Andy, where’s Mia?”… I had been demoted! J We later became Max's godparents.

It was hard to trade NYC for San Diego, in large part because Mia made New York so much damn fun. Especially when the Marbella divas would come to town - boy how my stock in the neighborhood soared when seen walking down the street with that gorgeous clan!

Though I would have traded anything and everything for Mia’s health, it was, for me, a fortunate twist that she chose to undergo treatment in San Diego and Tijuana. So much of her last two years were spent here, and I’m blessed to have been near to her during her final months.

When I think of Mia, I often think of her unwavering determination, fueled largely by a Danish stubbornness that made her a fiercely independent thinker. When reflecting on the last five years of her life, one is more apt to describe her as the "bionic woman" rather than a cancer patient. Few could match her accomplishments. She uprooted her life and landed an internship with UNICEF in Geneva. She spent a summer in Mexico teaching photography to blind children. She was accepted into two of the most competitive Master’s program in the U.S.: Columbia and the New School. At the New School she completed her Master’s degree in the normal two years, despite prolonged absences while undergoing constant cancer treatment. (She didn't need to read the books, she would tell me ... 'cause through life experiences in Afghanistan and the Middle East, she knew it all already!) She married a rock star. And then worked at the Covenant House, a charity shelter for homeless children … and so much more!

In her own words: “I’m fucking magic!” Yup, my friend. You truly are.

... Mia, babe, I have no doubt that you are enjoying your new existence, that you are already in charge of making waves, moving mountains and re-arranging the planets and the stars.

You continue to inspire in life. & to evoke love. Te quiero, tía. Para siempre. Andy.