Memorial for Tracey Sparling

I visited the ghost bike for Tracey Sparling today. Heaped with flowers – even more than the other night. You can hardly see the bike. It’s hard not to cry in front of it, even if you don’t know her. I wished I had vases of water for all the cut flowers to keep them alive. I wish that it could be continually replenished with dozens of fresh bouquets and more pictures of her --indefinitely into the future. Why not? It would be a way of remembering her, and also reminding people that this can happen.
She looks like the sweetest person in the world. I can think of at least ten people the planet could well do without. Why her? The hardest thing to understand in life is the death of the wrong person.