But, Nora, you did it. Dear, beloved Nora...gone so suddenly, gone too soon, gone before I could begin to contemplate a life without your love, compassion and wit.
You are my Muse, dear lady. You are to me what Julia Child was to Julie Powell. You are my butter. My inner thoughts. My soul. And I don't mind sharing this sentiment with a million other women who think you wrote only for them. That's your gift and wisdom.
There are heaps of commentaries and tributes out there remembering your collective body of work; no need for me to list them here. But, I do find it remarkable that you could move from the gravitas of Silkwood to the wistfulness of You've Got Mail. You tackled every aspect of relationships, and you didn't flinch when describing pain because you wrapped it in humour -- sardonic or deliciously intelligent.
I'm sure you've heard this many times, but I have to tell you again -- whenever I am feeling down about life or work, I pop one of your films into the DVD, sink into it, and lose myself.
In fact, here's a snip from my WIP; I wrote it months ago:
"On the way home she stopped at the corner market and bought
smoky pancetta, porcini mushrooms, fettuccine, and a pint of cream, indulging
her urge to cook con gusto, unimpeded
by the reproving stares of Jeffrey’s wilted organic carrots and Good Day Colon
Cleanse, both of which she’d tossed into the trash.
She was going
to eat, drink and be merry, and enjoy the movie, ‘Julie and
Julia,’ which dripped the virtues of gastronomy and butter. Butter! On her way
to the cash, she grabbed a stick of demi-salt and a crusty Italian baguette, still
warm in its paper sleeve."
See? Proof positive of your tremendous influence on the world.
Frankly, I don't know what I'm going to do without you but I mustn't be greedy. What you left behind is way more than caviar garnish. Honey, you gave me a huge tin of Ossetra -- (I like it more than Beluga.)
So, thank you, dear Nora. Thank you for seeing into my life, counting my heart beats. Thank you for making me laugh and cry at the same time. Thank you for knowing what needed to be said. Thank you for encouraging me to continue.
Nora, "you are a lone reed, standing tall, waving boldly in the corrupt sands of commerce."
You, dear Nora, are my I Ching. God Bless.
