My friend Miriam Engelberg died last Tuesday.
She was dying, she had brain mets. Her book is very funny and I highly recommend it:
Cancer Made Me A Shallower Person.
I don't know what else to say. It's us who are left behind who are sad. I'm especially unhappy about the irony of it: her book made her famous--cancer made her famous, but it killed her. And what's more is if she were alive, all the media attention she's getting now, she'd be making fun of.
I can't write anymore.