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Growing up, my mom listened to Rush every day. When she picked me up from school, he was always on the car radio. And stayed on the radio the entire drive home. I listened because he was simply what was on. And then I listened because he made me think. He became my final class of the day. The most impactful one, in fact. I've forgotten everything I learned in Botany, all of Geometry, and the majority of Algebra, but I still remember the critical thinking skills Rush taught me because I use them daily. As an adult, I became my mom. Rush was on my car radio, too. Or office. Or home. He kept me company. He entertained. And, without fail, he always educated. He was the voice of "home" wherever I went in the world. He taught me to question. To listen deeper. To weigh rightly. And to see past all the soundbites to what was real. To what was true. He also taught me to mock what deserved mocking. Not to let anyone use my decency, my compassion, and my emotions against me. And to never, ever, let them take away my joy for life. You can't erase a man with a legacy like that. Because his listeners–US–we are his legacy. And you can't stop people who can think freely. I miss you, Rush. I'll never not miss you.