Three weeks ago this evening, at 6:30, Diane died, peacefully, wordlessly, blank-facedly, in a hospice setting in our living room dense with silence/whispering, crowded with family and our dearest friends. I tried to find her face in theirs, and I failed.
My favorite part of that Friday was mid-day. I knew I still had time to look at her. Hold her hand. No verbal communication, but that was all right. She was in front of me. I could see her. Touch her. Who needed words?
Even at that late hour, I had no idea what these ensuing 21 days would bring. They have felt like climbing into a rickety jalopy, driving over a sea of uneven rocks every morning, every late afternoon, stretching from Aug. 14 to the end of my life. Feelings change hour to hour. Some days the rocky pavement is smooth, mostly not.
Our children, hers and mine, Matt, Nora, Sanda, Lauren, Jamie, and our safety net of friends have been global gold. Still, the unfillable gap of Diane’s death is thousands of miles wide. A million heartfelt condolences, as necessary as oxygen, will narrow it by an inch.
In the middle of my workday on Wednesday, I went out to my car and cried. I did not want anyone to see or hear me. Need you ask more? Sanda told me a similar story befell her at the same hour.
Diane Was Special. They Are, Too
Seated in the front row of the grandstand of our lives are two most precious friends who share their memories of Diane, a nurse practitioner, wife and mother for the ages. Their eloquence is stunning.
My friend Avraham wrote:
Diane (Blessed Be Her Soul) was truly a righteous woman. One could say that not only because she was an accomplished nurse who helped hundreds of patients toward health and well-being, but her essence, her soul was good and Godly.
I know that because she could distinguish goodness and purity as soon as she encountered it. When she met you 14 years ago, she was so confident she had found this goodness and purity (you!), she put aside the traditional style of the woman’s pride to wait for her man to offer her marriage. She decided to ask you to marry her! Wow… that’s a sign of courage and dedication not to miss the good as soon as one encounters it.
I personally was the beneficiary of her kindness. when she generously helped me with my personal health. She gave me wonderful
instructions without any expectations and out of the goodness of her heart when we met seven years ago.
Truly yours,
Avraham
From our friend and Diane’s colleague, Sarah Tubbesing:
Thought that I would share this because it is from Diane…
She told me that in the Jewish faith, women mourn those who have died by immersing themselves in the darkness of grief…dressing in dark colors, being low to the ground, and by being together.
There is a physical expression of their pain. They do not rush to feel better. She mentioned that this helped their process of grieving.
I remembered this when I was heartbroken from a relationship. I trusted what Diane said was true. It was. I did not rush…I needed a lot of time. I am so grateful to Diane for this.
Ari, I can’t imagine what you are experiencing.
Diane was one of the most generous of spirit, truly wonderful friends I have ever had. I am so grateful, that she allowed me into her life, and I remember your wedding, it was joyful. We met as nurses together, more than 25 years ago. With almost nothing else in common, we just clicked, and a work relationship became a wonderful friendship. Before she met you, Ari, I even got her to a wknd at a friend’s timeshare in Rosarito Beach! She taught me everything this ( lapsed Catholic) knows about Judaism. Although I’m not family, I appreciate your allowing me to be part of her life. I miss and think of her every day, and am glad she is at peace