SEA
the sea is so heavy inside us
and i won’t sleep tonight.
i have buckets of memory in a jar
that i keep for days and nights like these.
--Mxolisi Nyezwa


Late last night I received an email explaining that Gay passed away while in Belize. We’ve known that she’d been battling ASL for awhile, but it still came, comes even, as a shock. I received an email from her less than a week ago and there was nothing in it to indicate how rapidly the disease was consuming her. She tried to hide it, and succeeded for so long, from those who loved her. I am glad that she was in Belize, the land that held her heart will hold her body. It’s fitting and, as we all know, exactly as she would have wanted.

Gay had a way, even after losing her voice, to let you know that everything would be OK. It was there in her eyes, or in the touch of her hand, and even in her laugh. I don’t know how many times I went to her with things that seem so trivial now only to have her complete assurance that everything would be fine. That’s something that few people can give. The belief she had in my abilities not only as a student and scholar, but as a person, has completely altered my perception of who I am and what I can do and for that, I am eternally grateful. I am not alone; the number of lives Gay’s touched is simply infinite.

There’s so much more I want to say about her, but words fail me at the moment. As most of you know, Gay was my thesis director and worked closely with me on my Nadine Gordimer work—so it’s fitting that I can use Gordimer’s words to help express the impact this beautiful, remarkable person had on me.

“People give one another things that can’t be gift-wrapped.”