My earliest memory with Ezabell is not actually something I remember—she told me about this when I was much older and my mom corroborated the account. I was in my bassinet at Mamig’s (Grandma’s) house, just a few months old and she walked up and stared at me lying there and smiled, until she suddenly poked my eye with her finger. That was one of our earliest encounters!

In the early 80s we would be at Mamig’s house a lot—that was our meeting place for a great part of our formative years. For kids our size, the house seemed massive, the front yard was large with a variety of hydrangeas, sego palms and rose bushes—the backyard even larger with more fruit trees—pomegranates, loquats, figs and apricots. I am told we were quiet, well-behaved and often entertained ourselves. Yet I remember us arguing over tv stations, especially when our favorite cartoons aired at the same time.

We were the renaissance artists in our family. As far back as I remember we would often draw when together. I remember being dropped off at Mamig’s house one morning and Ezabell was already there, drawing at the coffee table in the family room. She was excited to tell me about a new way to draw a human nose—- simply the capital letter “L” in the middle of a face. And that was the beauty of it — we learned random things from each other throughout our lives. Years later, my dad would take us to Mission Renaissance art classes in Eagle Rock once a week and some years later at the Armory Center for the Arts.

On weekdays, when Dedig (Grandpa) was home from work, he would take us to Eaton Canyon. I remember feeding the tadpoles and then finding hidden areas in the chaparral where we made our “hide-outs”— we would check on them each time we visited. Walking back home we would always get a thrill of exiting the park from an extremely narrow and steep trail we called the “scary place” (վախնալիք տեղ).

Ezabell was a “maker”, she made art – she was good with her hands. During the latter episodes of “The Smurfs” a select group of the blue humanoids were traveling to different countries and Ezabell was convinced they would visit our town sooner or later. Therefore, she decided that it would be best to build shelters for the Smurfs in Mamig’s backyard. We built these by hand with smooth river rocks, twigs and pebbles in hidden corners of the yard— Ezabell always made sure to make a separate home for Smurfette (the female smurf), complete with a flower bed and a small “pond” that would always dry up.

When we were a bit older, I remember summers with Ezabell—especially the dog days of summer spent at her house. We would walk over from her house through the back alley, to 7-eleven for a Slurpee, or visit the Sunnyslope library, or the comic book store nearby for trading cards. That was the trip from her back alley to Rosemead Blvd., running across Michillinda Ave. was a completely different adventure (non-stop vehicle traffic). But with adult supervision, and a break in traffic flow allowed us to cross over to Hugo Reid Elementary School and play on the swings when school was not in session. Sleepovers at her house were especially fun—we watched movies, cartoons and sitcoms that my cousin Mgo had recorded and meticulously labeled–The NeverEnding Story, Alice in Wonderland (the 1985 CBS special), Yogi’s First Christmas, The Goonies, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (with Gene Wilder), among others.

We read books during the summer and enjoyed checking out books from the library—two that come to mind are Among the Dolls and the Witch at the Window. Lesser-known titles but all of them fed our imagination and fostered our creativity. This was the 80s. Ezabell even introduced me to The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe (book) and we enjoyed watching the BBC production later on. Of course, that couldn’t compare to the 2005 release of the film. By then we had grown up, and didn’t have lazy summers together to really analyze “Narnia” as we once did as children. Her bedroom always had music playing in the background. It was at her house I first heard Boy George and Karma Chameleon, hit songs by Cindi Lauper and I’ll never forget the time she forgot her CD copy of Ladies & Gentlemen: the Best of George Michael in my CD player in our garage. Music was confined to physical media growing up—unless you were glued to a radio station. If your tape or CD was left somewhere you were far from the music. When I think of the music in her room, I have to recall the familiar smells that accompanied them. When we were young, her room was filled with the Strawberry Shortcake Doll scent. Later, as teenagers and beyond there was always some scented candle filling the room.

When I started high school in 1998, Ezabell was a junior at Pasadena High School. We didn’t see each other on campus a whole lot since most of her classes were in the Visual Arts and Design Academy, located on a corner of the PHS campus. We did however, end up together in Ms. Duval’s P.E. class. We always partnered up to count each other’s jump rope skips, sit-ups, push-ups and other activities that didn’t thrill us a whole lot at the time. I can neither confirm nor deny whether or not we inflated the numbers in our favor.

After high school, we both worked at De-ani while attending Pasadena City College. We were often assigned to the padding room for hours of brain-numbing work sticking 14K gold charms on pads for Zales or Piercing Pagoda, while the radio was tuned to K-Earth 101. These were times of great conversation—we discussed ideas, planned events and talked about most everything. Once in a while we would clock out for lunch at the same time – Wendy’s salads, or croissant sandwiches from Food Time were some of her favorites. It was also during our time at De-ani when we both got our first Sprint camera flip phones—yup, they were pretty cool at the time.

I don’t think I could ever visit Old Town Pasadena and the Santa Anita Mall without thinking of Ezabell. During our De-ani days, we would sometimes meet for dinner at the mall before heading home. Her favorite spot was the California Pizza Kitchen—she always ordered the Chicken Tequila Fettuccine (hold the bell peppers) and I would usually order the Thai Linguini — we would always split a BBQ Chicken Chopped Salad. In December 2001 we were both looking forward to the film debut of Fellowship of the Ring (and each subsequent release) and saw it in theaters together. The “Krikorian Theater” wasn’t too far from where we were working in Monrovia, CA.

For about a good decade we planned weekend youth retreats at Camp AREV. In the early 2000s, camp was a desolate place, consisting of an old building and not much else. We came up with the idea of themed dinners and alternated between Luau nights and Miami nights where the outdoor ambience was transformed into something special for the campers. One year at Winter camp, she cooked two whole turkeys from morning on, so the college campers could all enjoy a ‘thanksgiving’ meal together in January! We chuckled whenever the topic came up back to the one year the camp director accused our group of taking the ‘tepseens’ (baking trays) from the camp kitchen after our weekend retreat was over. We had in fact, cleaned up that kitchen and washed all food prep items and arranged the “missing” trays neatly on a top shelf. That was Ezabell, always leaving things better than she found them.

As our individual careers developed, we always kept in touch or saw each other one way or another. Thanksgiving was a particularly special time where she enjoyed being in the kitchen helping prepare some of her favorite side dishes— stuffing with carrots, onions and celery, stuffed mushrooms with Parmesan and classic mashed potatoes. After dinner she loved having coffee—and she particularly loved the French Roast we brewed at our house and asked for it every time she was over for dinner. After dinner walks up the Kinneloa Mesa road in recent years were also memorable—her physical stamina was extraordinary knowing all she was battling. I never heard her complain, not once. She just adjusted and asked for help when she needed it.

After Ezabell got her cosmetology license, she cut my hair every month and these proved to be great “daytime” visits and opportunities to catch-up, share ideas, and ask each other for advise. One time after she finished cutting my hair she asked with a big grin if I’d ever been to Tom’s Burgers and if I wanted to go right then. This was one of a few spontaneous “detours”. She offered to order some of her sharable favorites —chicken and waffles, biscuits and gravy and zucchini sticks. Fun times.

Ezabell was stubborn to a fault, yet humorous and kindhearted. She was a great judge of character; she saw through people very easily. She also had great dreams and pursued them no matter the setbacks and physical limitations. Her creativity as an artist and skill as a businesswoman are a testament to this. She made handmade jewelry and grew a tremendous following on social media. People who had never met her absolutely loved her and her work.

She was a great support to me when I needed it the most. During at least three dinners at Din Tai Fung the summer of 2018, she provided practical insight, lighthearted humor and all the love a cousin could possibly bestow.

The last few years were seasoned with joys as well as sorrows. I remember visiting her in her room on Halloween night in 2019—a holiday when, as kids, we made our own costumes and went trick-or-treating in Grandma’s neighborhood—now we were quietly carving pumpkins on her bedroom floor, while watching the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina on Netflix. Each visit now would initiate another binge-worthy streaming show. I survived all seasons of Riverdale but I think I liked Stranger Things even more.

A few years earlier we had enjoyed season passes to Disneyland and attended Dame Edna’s Glorious Goodbye at the Ahmanson Theater. Yet God would allow us a few more memorable trips after the 2020 pandemic which kept as apart — a visit to the Last Bookstore in Downtown L.A. with chicken tostadas at The Original Tops afterwards, as well as an evening at the State Fair in Santa Anita Park where we enjoyed pretzels, a ride on the big Ferris wheel, a swing ride from Michael Jackson’s Neverland, and a Beatles tribute band—Hard Day’s Night. She introduced me to Zen Buffet in Arcadia where we had all the seafood and sushi we could care to enjoy one night. I think our last restaurant meal together was at the Cheesecake Factory in Old Town Pasadena.

The pain is real. A flood of memories rushed over me when I saw her at the CCU for the last time on May 4th.

I take comfort in the power of the resurrection— Christ has swallowed up death in victory (1 Cor. 15:54). Death has so radically been changed because of Jesus that the Heidelberg Catechism states it is no longer “a payment for our sin, but only a dying to sin and an entering into eternal life.” I know Ezabell … and I know Jesus welcomed her to a glorious place with no more pain. The maker met the Maker, the artist has seen the Source of creation. I’m sure she’s painting on a ten-league canvas with colors and hues we can only begin to imagine. She’ll teach me a thing or two some day as she often did over the years. Until that day…I love you, cousin, and will miss you terribly.

The rain fell so uncharacteristically hard that evening in May, it overshadowed the morning light.