Still Reeling
It was with great sadness that I and thousands of other fans learned two weeks ago that Nora Ephron had died. She was relatively young at 71--as in "I'm in my fifties and that's not so far away for me"--and still writing funny tidbits that were spot on.
Selfishly, one of my first thoughts was now I'll never get to meet her. I'll never get to show her my work and tell her how much of an inspiration she has been over the years.
The world is a slightly sadder place without her bon mots rippling off the pages. No more will I laugh into the night by flashlight trying to not wake my husband. Once, when he wanted to know what I was snickering over, I handed him her book between giggles. He read the chosen hilarious episode and commented, "Hmmph". That was it. Not even a smirk. I still don't know if her work is strictly gender specific or if my husband's sense of humour is less developed than even I could have thought possible. I do know that, should I be lucky enough to come across some new material by her in the future , I will laugh heartily into the night on my side of the bed.
I kind of regret that I was such an endorsing fan, passing on her books and pressing them breathlessly into the hands of any who I thought would enjoy her work. When I rooted through the bookshelves of my life the other day, I discovered to my dismay that I no longer own a single one of her works--although I know of at least three that I owned at one time.
I am going to think of them as taking on a life of their own, moving through the read-a-sphere, spreading joy and laughter--late into the night.
I will miss you Nora.
Selfishly, one of my first thoughts was now I'll never get to meet her. I'll never get to show her my work and tell her how much of an inspiration she has been over the years.
The world is a slightly sadder place without her bon mots rippling off the pages. No more will I laugh into the night by flashlight trying to not wake my husband. Once, when he wanted to know what I was snickering over, I handed him her book between giggles. He read the chosen hilarious episode and commented, "Hmmph". That was it. Not even a smirk. I still don't know if her work is strictly gender specific or if my husband's sense of humour is less developed than even I could have thought possible. I do know that, should I be lucky enough to come across some new material by her in the future , I will laugh heartily into the night on my side of the bed.
I kind of regret that I was such an endorsing fan, passing on her books and pressing them breathlessly into the hands of any who I thought would enjoy her work. When I rooted through the bookshelves of my life the other day, I discovered to my dismay that I no longer own a single one of her works--although I know of at least three that I owned at one time.
I am going to think of them as taking on a life of their own, moving through the read-a-sphere, spreading joy and laughter--late into the night.
I will miss you Nora.
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