More than 40 family members and friends gathered Friday at San Jose Christian Alliance Church to remember Se Nah Park, 24, who was swept out to sea at Panther Beach in Santa Cruz on Sunday, Nov. 8.

They came to grieve and share memories of a young woman whose quiet demeanor masked a playful, funny personality and a generous heart.

Friends remembered Se Nah’s laughter during car rides, her love of baking and music, and her willingness to try new things. Above all, they remembered someone who made others feel loved.

“She was the most giving person. The most loving,” said Sydney Mufarreh, who had known Se Nah for 20 years. “She wanted nothing more in this world but to be loved and to show love and to have a community that she can call her own.”

Mufarreh recalled how Se Nah was shy when they first met, but became funny and adventurous once she felt comfortable. She loved trying new restaurants and experiences, even if she preferred to avoid being the center of attention. Mufarreh delighted in greeting her with an exuberant shout and a hug, prompting Se Nah to smile, lower her head and playfully protest.

For Isabella Marquez, who grew up with Se Nah, the memories stretch back to childhood adventures, sleepovers and late-night conversations. They went to the library and mall together, celebrated milestones and shared a love of music. Marquez remembered sitting in Se Nah’s living room listening to her play the piano.

“To know Se Nah was to love her,” Marquez said.

Her father, Kwanghyon Park, described his daughter as kind, gentle, loving, smart and beautiful, with a deep connection to her family and faith.

In the days after her death, he said, the kindness of friends and relatives who gathered to support his family reminded him of Se Nah herself. He saw her generosity reflected in the people surrounding them.

Park also recalled a Pilates class he took with his daughter just two or three weeks before her death. Se Nah regularly attended classes and encouraged her father to join her, even making sure he had the proper grip socks. He laughed as he remembered how difficult he found the exercises while she moved through them with greater ease.

It was an ordinary moment between father and daughter, one that has since become a treasured memory.

Park said he was grateful for the 24 and a half years they shared, even as he mourned the future they would not have together.

Among those remembering Se Nah was Marie Fran De Vera, her childhood friend since kindergarten. After years apart, the two had recently reconnected and spent time together at a birthday gathering at the beach on the day Se Nah died.

De Vera remembered the pink sky, the food and music, and conversations about their lives and hopes for the future. Se Nah talked about traveling to Osaka, owning a home and getting a dog someday.

Before Se Nah left, De Vera told her how grateful she was that they had remained in each other’s lives and expressed hope they would continue getting to know one another.

Se Nah smiled and replied, “Yes, I’d really like that.” 

Other friends remembered the laughter and unpredictable conversations during church carpool rides. Nicholas Ngai recalled spending time cooking with Se Nah, including an attempt to make macarons that gave her plenty of opportunities to tease him.

Colin Maraschin had known Se Nah for less than a week. They met on the day she was swept into the ocean, sharing Korean barbecue and crepe cake during what seemed like an ordinary day.

He wished he had more time to know her.

His regret reflected the grief of those who had known Se Nah for decades. Though each person carried different memories, they shared the painful recognition of how much life she had left to live.

Her father said seeing the kindness of those gathered around his family helped him recognize his daughter in them.

For those who loved Se Nah, her legacy lives on in the laughter, generosity and connections she left behind.

Her death also underscored how easily we take time for granted. We assume there will be another dinner, another phone call or another opportunity to tell someone what they mean to us. Yet ordinary moments, a car ride filled with laughter, a father’s first Pilates class, music played in a living room or a conversation between childhood friends, can become the memories we treasure most.

Se Nah was 24, with dreams to pursue and a future full of possibility. Her life was far too short, but the love she gave will endure through the people who knew her.

Those who gathered to remember her offered a powerful reminder: Make time for the people you love, embrace the experiences that make life meaningful and tell family and friends how much they matter. Make the call, give the hug and say the words while you have the chance.

None of us knows how much time we have. But we can choose to make the most of it and ensure that the people we love never have to wonder how we feel about them.