Nora Ephron died last night. I was devastated when I read the news. She spoke for me. What she wrote rang true. And her style of writing, as if she were speaking to me, right here with me, was what I wanted so much to emulate but never quite succeeded.
. . .
And she was exactly one year older than I am. I didn’t know she had leukemia, I didn’t know she was sick, so the news of her death was a bombshell. I’ve been fighting the reality of my Big Birthday for a month now.
This article will be published in its entirety later this week. Link forthcoming.