My blog post yesterday was prompted by Kris Manos' comment on a post I wrote last week about the 90th Anniversary of the 19th amendment of the US constitution, the one that gave women the right to vote.
My note yesterday talked of celebrating all strong and brave women, like Kris' great aunt who, Kris learned when she read her great aunt's diary, cast her first vote in a small town in New Hampshire. It turned out that the practice there was to shout one's vote aloud, so Kris' aunt, who turned out to be the lone supporter of her favored candidate, had to take a stand publicly for what she believed and it apparently took a great deal of courage to do it.
How ironic that after that blog post was published yesterday I learned my close friend Gail Koff, a brave, strong woman extraordinaire, had died shortly after midnight. Gail's death came as a shock to her legions of friends and family despite the fact that many of us knew she was battling a form of leukemia. We were blindsided by the suddenness, the wrongness of this interruption of the future we had planned for ourselves with Gail in mind. Much of the reason for our surprise is that Gail treated her disease as an inconvenient challenge rather a ten year siege of "being sick" as others similarly afflicted would have considered such a circumstance. Make no mistake, though. Gail was no patsy, no pollyanna. Her legal training and sharp mind were always in evidence, tempered by her calm, even delivery, honed from years of yoga practice and meditation.
Little over a year ago, Gail underwent a stem cell replacement procedure in the effort to prolong her otherwise possibly foreshortened life. She understood it was risky, especially because in some cases patients suffer GVHD, "graft versus host disease", which is tough to survive, although many do. Gail did well after the procedure and continued to live her life as she always had--pretty much full throttle. In fact less than days before she took ill recently with the dreaded GVHD she and I had a long conversation over dinner (for which she arrived a few minutes late because she'd been working out at her gym) about her plans for the future. She looked forward to many things: travel, continuation of her successful business, involvement in the busy lives of her three children who were the center of her life. She figured she still had five or more years to live and planned to enjoy every minute of that time.
That time was cut short yesterday. Way too soon for the many people Gail touched with her brilliance, her beauty, her bravery and her humor. I'll miss those long, winding conversations with her. After listening to someone talk of things that had not gone well, of failure, of missed opportunities--Gail was famous for taking a sunny but reasoned view of the matter at hand by offering comments like "but just look at what you did accomplish in that effort..." (and she would then list the successful moments), or "but think of the many years of happiness you had together (if it was a failed relationship) and how prepared you are to get it right next time." Gail was a re-positioner of situations who could turn challenge, even failure, into success and anticipation.
I wonder, as she lay on her bed in the ICU unit in a Manhattan hospital over the past few weeks, whether she was able to do that for herself..."Sure, this is lousy, but the kids are here every day." "I'm feeling terrible but think of all the friends that care about me and are letting me know." Ultimately, if despite heavy sedation she could still gather her thoughts, I have a feeling she was telling herself something like "I'll miss everyone terribly but think of the adventure this is going to be..." And then with that iconic smile, that Mona Lisa look, she would have used her yoga training to relax and be in that moment, wherever it would take her.
Author of I is for Intercourse: The ABC's of Conversation, Susan Bird is the visionary behind Wf360, and a sought-after speaker around the world for her views on leadership, the strategic importance of conversation, entrepreneurship, and the role of women business leaders.
Gail was quite a human being.
She had grace, beauty, humor, intellect and common sense.
And she was always so much fun to be with.
I was shocked to hear she died. I had known she was ill for a long time, but I always thought she'd figure out a way to beat it.
I'll miss her.
Posted by: Michael Kubin | September 01, 2010 at 05:55 PM
Gail and I were friends for many years. We first met when we both worked for the Legal Services Division of the Office of Economic Opportunity back in 1969. I am deeply saddened by her passing. Gail was one of the kindess, most gentle, caring, yet powerful people I have known. Her yoga, exercise and "the work" enhanced her beauty and kept her balanced, calm and peaceful under the most trying circumstances. Gail, your friends, indeed the world has suffered a great loss with your passing.
Posted by: Frank N. Jones | September 04, 2010 at 12:38 AM