In Memory of Diana Losciale

Yesterday that terrible disease called cancer claimed Diana Losciale.  She was not only a co-worker but a very dear friend and mentor. Even though we lived hundreds of miles apart we talked several times a week and got to see each other 4-5 times a year.  When we did get to see each other we made time to have fun.  We went to restaurants and book stores.  We talked and laughed, we laughed at lot.  We had a lot of inside jokes, including a stuffed monkey named Marcel and speaking liking lGollum. We shared our frustrations with work, our opinions on books, music, tv shows and movies, and stories about our friends and family.  Diana loved writing and reading, music and movies, flower and photography, food and fashion. But most of all she loved her family, her husband Richard, daughter Lea and son Christian.

I can’t believe she’s really gone. The last time I spoke with her was before Christmas.  Since then I’d been mentally cataloguing all the things I wanted to tell her the next time I talked to her and it breaks my heart to realize it will never happen. I’ll never be able to tell her about the book I just finished or find out what she thought of the new season of Downton Abbey. I won’t be able to tell her that a park she took me to when I visited her in St. Louis was in an old Sandra Bullock movie I watched last week.

The last time I saw her was in June.  She came to town for work and we drove up to Mt. Evens after work so that she could see the mountains.  This is Diana at Echo Lake and it’s one of my favorite photos of her. We drove halfway up the mountain and then down to Evergreen where we had Mexican food and margaritas at The Whippletree.

Even though I’m devastated with sadness right now, I still know how lucky I was to have had Diana in my life. She let me bitch and cry about some of the most stupidest things, she gave encouragement and guidance in my professional life and in my aspirations. When I was down she could always make me laugh.  She was smart and creative and wise and I felt smarter, more creative and wiser just from knowing her.

 

Diana, I’m not ready to say goodbye just yet.  I will always miss you.