Santiago “Sandi” “Sandi” P Alverez sr

Santiago P Alverez Sr. was thirteen years old and already the kind of person whose smile you remembered. Those closest to him called him Sandi, and Sandi's smile is the first thing anyone will tell you about him.

He was born June 5, 2013, and he lived his life between Mansfield, Ohio, and Severn, Maryland. He rode a skateboard the way some kids ride bikes, like it was simply how he got through a day. He was warm and calming to be around, the kind of presence that made a room easier.

Every Friday night belonged to pizza. Sandi loved making it almost as much as he loved eating it, and the family called it Sandi's Pizza Night, a standing appointment nobody wanted to miss. He took care of the people around him the way he took care of that pizza, with attention, with pride in getting it right.

"Love always," he would say, and he meant it as more than words. It was how he treated his family, how he showed up for them, how he signed off on an ordinary Tuesday like it mattered.

He is remembered by his family, who held onto Friday nights with him for as long as they had them.

Santiago was a non-denominational Christian, and his faith was part of everything he was.

The smile is what stays. Whatever else time takes, it won't take that, or the sound of a kitchen on a Friday night, or the two words he left them with. Love always, Sandi. Right back at you.