And Now She's Gone: The Year of 50

She lived in Paris, which is where we first met after being connected online for a couple of years. We had croissants and hot chocolate, and Leon and I enjoyed a wonderful afternoon with her.

A Woman in the World is a photographic diary exploring aging, identity, perimenopause and the stories beneath the stories.

February 21st

Is the last 5am antibiotic? I can’t remember. Actually, no. It’s tomorrow. I thought I’d feel more tired than this with the later bedtime and sleep interruption to take the pill, but I’ve almost felt more energetic in some ways. Wouldn’t it be wild if 10pm wasn’t my optimum bedtime after all. After all these years.

It was colder than yesterday when I went on my walk. And yesterday was cold enough. They say it will warm up on Sunday. But part of me likes it when winter feels like winter. Real winter. Not balmy days that speak of pending doom. But the kind of cold that feels reassuring that the world hasn’t entirely lost its way.

I had the most productive day with getting ready to launch a new offer. To say that I was in creative flow would be an understatement. This feels so right, and I feel so ready.

February 22nd

I got the news that a much loved friend died today. I’d been thinking of her this week but we hadn’t messaged since last month. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in spring last year. And now she’s gone. It’s unbelievable and devastating all at once.

She lived in Paris, which is where we first met after being connected online for a couple of years. We had croissants and hot chocolate, and Leon and I enjoyed a wonderful afternoon sitting outside a cafe with her, watching Paris go by.

We next met at the Chelsea Hotel in Manhattan, drinking tea this time, talking about her plans to script a new show, and my plans for the house Leon and I hoped to buy.

It was 8 months later when she was next in New York and we were going to meet in Central Park. She messaged me to say she wasn’t sure if she could make it and that she wasn’t feeling well. Shed recently been diagnosed with diabetes and we thought her body was just adjusting to new needs.

But more tests in Paris revealed something more serious. And then treatment began.

She was faring quite well for a while. Or she seemed to be. We’d message regularly and there was some positive news towards the end of last year.

But things changed in January. The new concoction of meds they were treating her with stopped working. I immediately sent her a voice message asking her what I could do to support her. What she needed.

She said: You’re so kind and lovely. Thank you. 💜 I can’t think of anything right now but I promise to tell you if I do. Thank you so much. I’m so glad we were able to meet in person. You really are such a wonderful soul and I absolutely adore you 💜💜💜💜

I’m looking out at a pink streaked sky as the sun sets. Thinking of Jill, and feeling the loss of her vibrant spirit so deeply.

February 23rd

It was warm enough to walk to the beach today. I love being there. Standing in front of the huge expanse of water. Remembering that I am connected to something vast. Something that was here before me and will still be ebbing and flowing when I’m gone.