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Saturday, April 11


We were not close friends. We worked at the theater together, shared some laughs, some stories. I enjoyed her, liked her very much, came to admire and respect her as she fought the illness that claimed her this week.

She wore black, loved rock and roll and her kids. She was irreverent, funny, smart and did not suffer fools.

The last time we worked together it was just the 2 of us. Improv. There was a seating snafu and she looked at me and said "Don't look at me", she shrugged and held her hands up and laughed and waved me in to deal with it. If you knew her, you got the joke.

She left early that night. She had just started chemo again after a year of believing she was free and she was tired. "I thought I'd get more time" she said, regarding the remission. "Maybe 3 years".

I told her to go home, rest, don't worry about me it's under control. "Rest", I said "So this time you get 10 years" and she looked at me with eyes that told her truth, hugged me and said goodnight. Thanked me for "always being so nice" to her.

I hoped for the best, but that look in her eyes stayed with me.

She was truly a warrior. Brave and determined. Losing the battle does not mean you were not a valiant opponent.

I'll miss you, kiddo.

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