We will all remember Katie in different ways.

Some of us will remember her as a comedian, someone with a generous laugh and razor-sharp wit who could make us collapse into fits of giggles, who was self-deprecating and kind.

Some of us will remember her as a confidant, as a therapist, as someone we could talk to about our mistakes and worries and triumphs and hopes, without fear of judgement.

Some of us will remember her as a clinician approaching genius, as someone who could clinch a diagnosis before the patient had even been presented, who seemed always to be several steps ahead of the doctors around her.

Some of us will remember her as the life of the party, the first one on the dance floor, the one everyone wanted to turn to with a good story (although chances were she had already heard the tea long before you did).

Her patients will remember her as someone who was wiling to spend hours with them, to go above and beyond, and then to go even further than that, to stay up late checking MyChart to see how they were doing, to know them as more than just a lab result and a medical history, but as a human in distress.

Some of us will remember her as a friend, as a co-resident, as a colleague, as a mentor.

And a very small group of people will remember her as a wife, as a daughter, and as a mother. This fund is for them.

Katie died unexpectedly, and her family is facing unimaginable heartbreak. As they slowly pick up the pieces of their tremendous loss and try to fill in the empty space that Katie left behind, please consider donating to help with funeral expenses and childcare costs as they get through the immediate weeks ahead.