All the moon, all the stars
Romantic yet practical, whimsical yet disciplined, Amy was a force of nature with a personality impossible not to love. She was dynamic; a people person; a protector. She would sacrifice anything—except, of course, her bond with brother’s beloved dog Roma—to help anyone. Amy had a natural talent for making people laugh and loved doing just that. She was at the center of every family gathering, whether it was making sure the special Christmas Day pote was eaten or extending her infectious laughter over homemade Italian food like a hug. In quieter moments, she could be found collecting sea glass and meditating on the beach at Prince Edward Island, where she and her family would visit yearly for family vacations. She shared a close bond with her siblings, Madison and Jonah, as well as with their respective partners, Chris and Jill. An active participant in her sister’s wedding and brother’s engagement, she dreamed of having a family and children of her own one day, too.
Amy had a ‘math brain’ like her father Paul and had always been extremely disciplined in her studies. She earned a 4.0 throughout her school career, all the way through graduating with her bachelor’s degree in accounting. After working for many years in childcare, she was proud to put her degree to use as an accountant at the nonprofit organization, Community Resources for Justice. She also loved yoga, meditation, astrology, and long walks along the beach. One of her favorite phrases became: “I love you, all the moon and all the stars.” The perfect bridge between the practical and romantic sides of her was music—precise, yet graceful. Amy was an accomplished piano player who had taken lessons with a special instructor for many years. Though she hated performing, she was always happy to share her musical talents with her family and close friends.
Amy approached her recovery with the same disciplined mindset as she approached all other aspects of her life. She lived with the disease of addiction for over six years. In that time, her radiant personality shifted as she tried to protect her loved ones from the truth of her struggles. But she never lost herself completely. After Amy’s passing, many people reached out to her family to share stories of how she had helped them, from high school, college, recovery, and beyond. “A close friend she met in recovery shared how much Amy encouraged her to be herself and to stand up for herself,” her mother Elizabeth said. “She was also a sponsor in her recovery community and was amazing at providing support. Someone said, ‘she was a kick-ass sponsor!’”
Amy’s family, despite her best efforts, worried about her—who she was with, what she was doing, where she was. Elizabeth “feared the worst would happen, and it did.” Witnessing Amy’s experience with substance use disorder forced them to confront the fact that this disease can affect everyone. “We try to pay attention to others who may be struggling and be a source of support,” she said. “We try to talk openly about how Amy died, hoping that it allows others the freedom to open up about SUD. We hope this may help someone along the way.”
Amy’s mother, Elizabeth Calabria, provided the information for this narrative.
December 2, 1992-November 1, 2023-Age 30
Portrait Artist: Theresa Clower
Narrative Writer: Angela Day