Yesterday—March 28th, 2026—my step mother Amy passed. Death is ugly and sad and shaking and hard, but in grief there is memory, and in memory, happiness. I wrote this up as an email to my personal newsletter list yesterday.

Hi friends,

As many of you know, my (step) mom Amy had been battling ALS for most of the last year. Today, as the early afternoon fog rolled over Mount Sutro, Amy passed.

Amy was a special person. Over the past months, I’ve had the privilege on learning more about who she was to others. Before, I had only known her as a caring, loving mother. Amy came into my life when I was two, and immediately took me as her own. I grew up with two moms–I’ve been so lucky. As the truly baffling scale of her impact on the world has made itself clear through kind messages and stories told by the many people she touched in life, I’ve gotten to know the Amy the rest of the world knew: a bringer-together, a force for joy, a woman who was generous with her love and her time, a funny, beautiful, stubborn, loved, caring, sweet woman.

Even as communication became hard, I continued to learn from Amy. She fought hard until the end. Being her kid has been a long, wonderful study in the best of humanity. All the forms care can take, a dogged get-shit-done attitude I strive for, countless lessons in womanhood, a fierce belief in what’s right–and doing something about it, a love of joyful things–friendship, food, good weather, our dogs.

She leaves behind my dad, myself, and my brother. Her sister, brother, and father and step mom, six and change nieces and nephews, and our two puppies will miss her so much.

I love you, Amy. I’ll keep you alive in the stories I tell.

P.S.
We don’t need anything material. If you knew Amy, and have a story, no matter how small, write an email to amy@makhijani.us. I’m going to be putting something together.