Remembering my friend today …
My friend died Thursday.
She was 52. She was a wife and a mother of two boys. She loved Manhattan, Joan Didion and berry cobbler.
She adored our book club. She lapped up every selection — even the more esoteric choices (Gina Kolata’s Flu, Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink) the rest of us slogged through.
She took immaculate care of herself. She practiced yoga. She went to the gym. When she was diagnosed with celiac disease a few years ago, she researched it diligently to learn its causes and treatments, then faithfully eliminated all gluten from her diet. (No more book club cobbler.)
She was funny. She regaled us with stories of her elderly mother’s insistence that Barack Obama was her brother.
She was fierce. She loved her sons…
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