Cathy, a lot of people will miss you. I thank God you were able to pass with grace and dignity. For everyone who will miss her, please don’t think of it as what you’ve lost, but what your life would be like if you never knew her or read any of her columns.
*I was cutting video at worker earlier tonight, while I surfed around, reading about the entire blogosphere’s fond memories of Cathy Seipp. I had told everyone at work about her before, so even though they never knew her and most of them had never read her columns, most of them were appropriately dismayed at the news, especially since we kinda, sorta know her since we’d briefly met Maia while Jerry was working with us.
I feel really silly feeling so bad for someone I never met and only knew in blog passing. But I felt silliest when I teared up while reading Denise Hamilton’s (who happens to be another hero of mine) remembrance of Cathy Seipp.
Ten days ago I was stunned to arrive and find Cathy in her office, writing a column and asking if we could go for a walk in a bit because she wanted to build up her muscle tone. She was also pleased that the LA Times had called and wanted her to participate on a blogging panel next month at the L.A. Times Festival of Books.
‚ÄúI told them I probably won‚Äôt be able to do it unless I start feeling better,‚Äù Cathy said.
And then, in her inimitable Cathy way, she started drawing up a list of replacements to suggest to the festival organizers in case her health didn‚Äôt improve enough to permit her to attend.
‚ÄúDon‚Äôt you think that‚Äôs a good idea?‚Äù she asked.
Her eyes were clear, her voice measured. I found it hard to meet her gaze, didn‚Äôt trust myself to speak. All I could do was nod.
Even in the face of her serious illness, she thought of other people. Cathy Seipp was a classy woman that I am sorry I never got the privilege to meet in person.