I found out this morning that a very dear friend died yesterday. Although Gina had been having an ugly, all-out battle with breast cancer for the last two years, and knew her days were running out, I don’t think she was prepared for the sudden liver failure that claimed her yesterday morning. I know I wasn’t. Gina, who I worked with for years, moved to California a few months ago, planning to start a new life in the wake of the cancer that she fought so aggressively. Her doctors discovered more cancer, though, burrowed further into her chest and lungs where they couldn’t get to it without major surgery that would have left Gina in excruciating pain for her last months. She opted for more chemotherapy instead, so she could have a few good weeks out of each of those last months — time to enjoy the sun, to be with her friends, to be able to pull together the fragments of the wonderful book she had been working on for so long. Even during her illness, Gina was incredibly vibrant, emotionally and intellectually engaged, empathic, thoughtful, insightful. Gone, just like that.
Gina and I took to one another immediately went I first interviewed with her for some freelance typesetting work four-and-a-half years ago. From the very first day, I was taken by her enthusiasm, humor, and quick mind as our conversation went from typesetting to typography to books to literature to life. I learned an incredible amount of new things from her, and I was actively encouraged by her to take those new ideas to new levels, and to always leave myself the energy to do what I love. And I laughed with her. God, how we laughed when we were together! Even when we started out bitching and moaning about the workplace and the larger world, we were able to put things in perspective and mix joy in with the righteous indignation. She was not only a friend and a colleague and a teacher, but also an inspiration. that’s cliché, I know, but true: I aspire to her level of passionate interest in life.
There are so many stories to tell about the many chapters of Gina’s incredible life, but I don’t think I can reminisce just now. I’m tired, my feelings are spent. I just want to wash away the sting in my eyes from all the crying.