The holidays often come with thoughts of cheer, but the first holiday after the death of a loved one can be extremely difficult. (Ayrton Breckenridge/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

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It has been two months. Two months of gut-wrenching, soul-stripping, physical, emotional, agonizing pain. Our dear, beautiful Natalie, age 26, was killed when a driver, allegedly speeding and under the influence of alcohol, caused a seven-car crash while Nat was waiting at a stoplight at Lyndale Avenue.

The day after the crash, she was supposed to be on a plane to Charlottesville, visiting her 21-year-old sister Olivia and her mom and dad for parents’ weekend at the University of Virginia. She was looking forward to it. Nat and Liv had planned many family activities and were to celebrate her dad’s birthday that weekend. Nat and Liv were so close, looking forward to so many years of togetherness. As parents, our greatest joy was seeing the two of them together. There is a before and there is an after. We will never be the same.

Now, during the holidays, we should be anticipating Natalie coming home to Wellesley, Mass., where she never missed a Christmas or Thanksgiving. She would be telling us her latest news from Minneapolis. How she was happy that she had completed her National Science Foundation Scholarship proposal and her Ph.D. applications. I can picture her excitement at having finally decided to move forward with pursuing a Ph.D. Natalie never made decisions lightly. Her time at the Federal Reserve in Minneapolis was very fulfilling for her. She had learned a lot and was contributing at a high level, doing groundbreaking economic research and getting published in economic journals. She was trying to analyze and develop policies to address inequality, particularly as it related to income distribution and housing disparities in indigenous and other marginalized communities. Natalie was dedicating her career to helping others less fortunate.

Natalie had grown to love Minneapolis in her almost three years there. She made many friends and had found many corners of community in the city, places even her Minneapolis friends had not been, though they had lived there their whole lives. Nat was always doing something. From open-lake swimming, to returning to her love of gymnastics, to biking to work during the week, hiking the lakes, snowshoeing or cross-country skiing on weekends. In her three years there she ran two City of Lakes half-marathons and two mini-triathlons. Nat loved trivia nights and book club with her friends. Shakespeare in the pub, live music, Celtics and Pats games, women’s soccer at Aurora FC, learning to play the guitar, re-learning to play the piano and books, books, books.

As we gathered with her friends we learned more about Natalie’s Minneapolis. Some of her favorite places were Emily’s Lebanese Deli for food, Caffetto for studying, the farmers market, all the lakes and beaches, Boom Island Park for runs and games, and the gyms — Minneapolis Gymnastics (always followed by Eli’s), Gleason’s Gymnastics and Peik Gym at the University of Minnesota.

Natalie had virtually no social media and never had a TV. She lived in the real world around her, was always active, always curious, talking with people, never sitting around. Every Thursday she volunteered, teaching English to Spanish-speaking adults. She regularly gave her time at a homeless center. Her roommate told us that on hot days she would buy bottled water and hand it out to the homeless, and on frigid Minnesota winter days she would spend her money to buy hand warmers to hand out. Nat dedicated her personal time to helping others less fortunate, being present, connecting with others.

At home, we and Nat’s sister Olivia will forever miss our usual activities together. Cooking (the girls would take over the kitchen for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner), going on walks and hikes, visiting friends and neighbors, sitting around the fire pit on a cold winter night, playing games, CATAN, hearts, spades or anything involving a ball, from pingpong to pickleball or paddle tennis to throwing a football back and forth while walking the dog through the neighborhood. And, of course, watching Harry Potter movies.

Natalie was a young adult about to embark on her next chapter. Soaring forth, with her characteristic drive of always caring for others, living simply and without excess, bringing community with her. She was unique. A 26-year-old with a brilliant mind and a caring heart, an old soul daring to dream of building a better world, with a fierce determination and the drive to actually make a difference.

Senselessly taken from us and the world just as she was coming into her own.

It’s hard to accept that we will never get our beautiful Natalie back.

Rachel and Keith Gubbay live in Wellesley, Mass.