Elliot's Eulogy (final)

 

Final:

I remember Nicole and my first real one on one conversation, in Brooklyn, when we first sat and talked, just the two of us, me with my fedora, her with her flatcap. We both loved hats, that was one of those things we realized pretty early on. Her eyes glanced at me, not always staying in place, but I knew through that glance that she knew me already. 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. 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 so 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 Williamsburg 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 artsy 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. Turned out it was just a beautiful bench with her name on it. We sat for a minute. Laughed about it, and still expected each other to admit the joke. 

Her priorities. So beyond that which is right in front. She knew what people needed even when they didn’t. 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. 

She did it for her family, her friends, her neighbors. 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 marketing and branding, to use her photography and design skills to help individuals and businesses 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 as soon as you were born your mom saw you as the little spunky bright partner in life with her. She knew who you were from that first moment she set eyes on you. Just like she does with others. And all she did was spend as much time as possible showing you who you are. She committed every second of every day to helping you discover yourself. 

To say we were all lucky to have known is obvious. 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, daredevils, secret agents, super heroes. Her super power was helping people see their own selves, and their best selves. Nicole, rest now, be at peace.