April 28, 2008 — my girlfriend/partner, Monique Yazigi (who her best friends, her grandmother, and I called Gigi), knew she was dying of cancer, yet she still had not admitted that to me, although I knew it from her appearance, increasing inability to eat food or drink liquids, and her lack of energy. We had been together for over 24 years, knew each other since we were kids, and thought of each other as identical teammates, a phase she had used to describe the relationship she had with her grandmother.
On the 28th, she insisted that we go to her safe deposit box and put it in both our names. She had previously shared that box with her beloved grandmother, who had passes away in 2002. I do not think she ever recovered from that loss, and I think it just ate at her heart, and caused all of her sicknesses just a few years later. When she went to that safe deposit box, shortly after her grandmother’s death, she was surprised to find a boxed hotel bar of soap, from a hotel they had once stayed together in Albany, and inscribed on the box was a note saying “Dear Gigi, keep clean.” One final posthumous expression of love.
When we went to the safe deposit box in April 2008, and changed it over to both our names, Gigi went into the bank vault herself, presumably to check on the contents of the box. That was the last time I was at the safe deposit box until after her death, in July 2008. I do not remember the date, but when I did go back to the box, I did not find much, but what was there was the boxed bar of soap her grandmother had left for her, and a note to me, written on an office calendar page from April 28, 2008, which said “Jamie, you keep clean too!, Love you, Gigi, *Thank you for everything, xox”. A photograph of that note is posted above, and she obviously wrote that up the day we changed the box to both of our names.
To this day, almost 7 years later, I still get teary-eyed and emotional when I see that note. It is my most prize and cherished possession. And when I think of her, I think about what Cher said about Sonny Bono in her eulogy, that he was the most unforgettable character she had ever met, and for however long she lived, or whomever she met in her life, that person would always be Sonny. That person for me is definitely Gigi.
So why talk about this today? Well, last night I went on my first date since breaking up with a very nice and lovely woman who I dated steadily for 7 months. As it turns out, last night’s date was more interested in getting her feet wet in the dating scene (after ending a relationship), than in starting a new relationship — disappointing from my view, particularly since it was so calculating. I met both last night’s date, and the woman who I had previously dated, through online dating. While these two experiences were very different, it just hit me last night how I will never again be with my Indentical teamate, who was Gigi. Which is not to say that I have not loved someone since Gigi passed, nor that I will never find love again, but just that it will never again be that young first love — with an unforgettable person, a deeply close and trusted friend having many similar views and interests , and one who was such a major influence in my life.
However, I do not dwell in the past (although it is important to always remember), but instead live in the present, and look towards the future. So I view my life as having two buckets — my life up to when Gigi passed away, and my new life from that point on. What I learned from her is that life is short, life is fragile, so you better live it to the fullest since you never know what will happen. With that in mind, I have been working hard to fill that second bucket, and hope to find another woman to share and build life with.
P.S. Switching gears just a bit, just to make a social commentary. As the disease progressed, Gigi lost lots of weight, and when she passed away, she was way under 100 lbs — just a skelton covered with sagging skin. Yet up until about a month before she passed, she remained active in the NYC social scene, wearing her wig out to events. But I remember her telling me how her social friends told her they were so happy with her, in that she had lost so much weight, and that she looked so great — all the time, that weight loss was due to sickness and she was dying. The thinner the better was the rule, and it did not matter how you got there. A perversion, which unfortunately still continues to this day.