First Draft:
Maybe life is a series of moments. The moments I remember most tend to live in glances. I remember the first time I saw her, John and Delia picked me up and I got in the back of their car and said hi. They were just bringing me a few blocks, it might have been an elaborate scheme to have us meet, and I remember her glance at me and then the glance out the window while Delia filled the silence, as she often did. And then I said goodbye and earned another glance. And I remember them, more than any words we might have said. Her beautiful eyes. And then at central park a month or so later, and I realized as she glanced around that I wanted her to glance at me, and I realized my envy when she glanced at others. We took the train from there with my roommate, I guess she was going the same way. I have no memory of discussion, but I remember her looking, not just at me, but looking around the train, at my friend, out the window. Always looking. Soon after, hanging out in a group of friends again played some Jeopardy game. I remember her eyes, I remember realizing I could see in her eyes that she knew almost all the answers, and yet was letting others guess and get the points, and smiling. I realized then how smart she was. And how much she didn’t show it. And I remember sometime not long after, in Brooklyn, when we first sat and talked, just the two of us, me with my fedora, her with her scarf and flatcap. We both loved hats, that was one of those things we realized pretty early on. Her eyes still glanced at me, not always staying in place, but I knew through that glance that she knew me. I don’t know how, I didn’t really talk that much.
It was that first conversation where I told her more about who I thought I was, and who I wanted to be. And how they seemed incompatable to me. By the end of the conversation, she made me believe that I could be who I was and who I wanted to be, both at once. It seemed to simple but so eye-opening for me. Had no one ever told me that? Maybe no one that truly believed it. We walked around afterwards, and while walking through Willimsburg wouldn’t you know we came across a beautifully colorful painted bench in the middle of a plot between two building, and the bench said on it in big arsy happy painted letters “Reserved for Nicole Marino.” I looked at her and said what is this? And looked at me with the same look. We both looked at each other and started to smile, thinking the other was going to tell what this was any second, and simultaneously realizing that maybe neither of us had anything to do with it, just a strange coincidence. Maybe I should have taken credit right then, might have gotten her to marry more quickly than 5 years later. But I didn’t, and she didn’t, it was just a beautiful bench with her name on it. We sat for a minute. I’m sure I have a picture somewhere, because she always had her camera of course.
I guess from then on I knew that it was her glance I wanted to be around. It wasn’t easy. Once I tried to walk her home in the East Village, out of the guise of keeping her safe. That backfired. She let me know she was just fine taking care of herself. No wilting flower. Gave me a first kiss but walked home by herself. I guess I wasn’t going to get her with my macho act.
And I had to endure some rather unappreciated extended periods of let’s say, reduced two-way communication. what I thought was ghosting, but what her friends informed me was just Nicole being Nicole. But I sent her so many texts over the last week, and she hasn’t responded to any! I think shes done with me. No no they’d say, just wait. But it been two weeks, she hasn’t even answered a call! Its over. No, no, trust us, she’ll tell you if its over, just wait. Eventually the responses came. And they were as beautiful and as perfect and made the time waiting disappear. I learned to respect that space of hers. It wasn’t always easy, but it was essential. She functioned on a different time sense then me too, and I don’t just mean that trying to get somewhere on time with her was more complicated than getting a time machine stuck in 1955 back to 1985. I practically had to hang from clock towers and time lightning strikes or else we were definitely late. No, I mean where I think in minutes and hours (what am I doint this minute, what am I doing in an hour), she thought in weeks and months, and even years, always so clear in her priorities.
Her priorities. So beyond that which is right in front. She knew what people needed, may not give you what you wanted, but if she let you in to her delicate circle, you knew she was helping you to reach that place. Finding that peace between who you are and who you want to be. She always knew it was one and the same. To her cancer team at Mt Sinai, she named the doctor Batman, and nurse Jon was Robin, and the chemo nurse was wonderwoman. She gave them all parting gifts like the Batmobile, Robin’s bike, wonder woman headband. It was fun and funny, but also so profound. Who you are and who you want to be, it is the same thing. Just give it a costume, a name.
She did it for her family, her friends, her neighbors. For instance in Florida, to me our neighbor Edgar was just the older guy on the board, retired airline pilot. To her, Edgar was both the godfather of the condo board and also the suave, jettsetting leather cap and sunglasses wearing daredevil pilot. I could see this, and Edgar knew that she saw him that way. And he loved her. That is what she did for all of us. Seeing the world through her eyes was so wonderful, which is why her photographs are so wonderful. She always tried to capture your best self. Her career goal, just recently discovered before covid and this tragedy, was to go into branding, to use her photography and design skills to help individuals and business show themselves in their best light. She would have been incredible at that.
And of course her greatest priority and vision was for her daughter, her baby, her Dylan-doll. Her mini-me as people still say. Dylan, the patience your mom showed with your childhood was astounding. So many of us worry and overthink and try to manage every second for a child, but Nicole, as soon as you were born she saw you from day one as the little spunky bright partner in everything that you are. She knew who you were from that first moment she set eyes on you. Just like she does with others. And all she had to do was spend as much time as possible showing you who you are. She never “dressed you up”, she always found clothes that brought out your personality. She knew you wanted to dance even when you weren’t sure. She committed every second of every day to helping you discover yourself. And she realized that she also had an essence unfulfilled, and was so proud when she went back to school to complete her associates.
To say we were all lucky to have known her seems to diminish her impact. So many of us also knew her struggles. She hid them, but they also made her who she was. It seems so unfair that someone who had such a difficult road at times had to also be given this final struggle. I’d like to someday find meaning in it, but for now it is just painful and seems so unfair. But like her favorite song “Do You Realize” says, we are all destined to leave this earth at some point. And I would add, do you realize how fortunate we were to have known her? Do you realize how fortunate that Dylan is here to help carry on her energy and love? Do you realize how many pictures I have on hard drives so we can see through her eyes any time we want? Do you realize how beautiful the world is and how amazing every single person is, we are all so human and everyone is surrounded with a halo of their own dreams, and we all deserve to be seen for who we are and who we want to be and if you ever forget that, just think what she would say. In her eyes we were all rockstars, hotties, studs, fighter pilots, super agents, models, super-producers. I love you Nicole, rest in peace, you are an angel.
