Mel
Gill has been a constant in my life for over 25 years. I first met her when Gill and Andy visited Stevie in Leeds, Stevie and I had been dating for about 6 months. They picked us up from our grotty student digs in Headingly and took us to Pizza Express for lunch, which felt very exotic at the time. It was love at first sight for Gill and me – we hit it off immediately.
From the minute Stevie landed in London, Gill included us in her family life. Shortly after settling in London, we were invited to Mill Hill to celebrate Zak’s bris at their family breakfast. Gill was very stressed and concerned because the initial bris had not quite gone to plan, and I remember being confused by her supersonic worry levels, it was the first of many times that I would tell Gill she worried too much!
We were initially at completely different life stages – Stevie and me were out clubbing and drinking in Central London as our fledgling careers began to take off and Gill was juggling her successful career with nannies and the needs of her young family. It became a recurrent joke that whenever we saw her, she would ask if we were off to a ‘trendy bar in Camden’ – this joke continued way beyond us becoming too old and too tired to visit bars in Camden!
During those first few years of Zak’s early life I remember being blown away by Gill’s love and devotion to little Zak. We were all besotted. When he first sang Twinkle Twinkle to us in the sunshine under the beautiful tree in that small Mill Hill garden, Gill and I hugged each other with laughter and tears at his musical talent and genius! It wasn’t long before Mia was born, Gill was so worried (!) that her due date would clash with our wedding, but Mia was very considerate and arrived a few weeks before our wedding, by which time Gill had no baby bump at all and looked absolutely radiant.
Whilst Stevie would always be her baby brother, they had an enviable relationship. It was honest, open and authentic. When Jonny would visit, their breathless laughter recalling childhood calamities and misdemeanors would echo around the house. The laughter stopped when it was time to head out and all three Cohen siblings simultaneously realised that they could not find their keys, glasses, phones, handbag etc [delete as appropriate].
Once we had our kids, Gill loved them like they were her own. Gill and Andy took Jess and Seth to the theatre and enjoyed special times with them away from us. Gill adored Seth’s cheeky ways and was always captivated by Jess’ calm and mature approach to the world around her. As our kids faced their health challenges along the way, Gill felt our parental pain acutely, and was a constant hand holder, hugger and emotional support. More recently she fell in love with our third child, Lenny, our mini schnauzer and he adored her in return.
She understood the pain and loneliness of my grief when both my parents died. She worked so hard to keep the memory of them in the present, she wore the scarf that belonged to my mum on yom-tovim and special occasions and would often quote my mum’s wise words to bring her into the moment. Both Gill and Andy showed such kindness to both my parents when they were ill, visiting them in hospital and care homes, which was appreciated by us all. In turn, I tried my best to support Gill through her pain and grief during Andy’s illness and untimely passing. I sat with her in Leicester when he had his surgery, and in the months and years that followed, we cried, we talked, we acknowledged, we walked, we shared dinners and coffee and I made us terrible mugs of tea that always amused her (whilst in turn I was always surprised that she would ask for hers with sugar).
Over the years, we have shared book recommendations; restaurant recommendations; recipes; exhibition recommendations; travel ideas; newspaper articles and walking routes. We chatted 2-3 times a week and always messaged each other on a Friday afternoon to congratulate ourselves for getting through another busy week. Whist we shared so much in common, we also had significant differences. I am a sport-obsessed, map-reading, safe-driving, route-planning, forgetful and yet obsessively organised list-writer. Whilst Gill was a maths genius, analogue (continuing to read ‘real’ books and look at ‘real’ maps) with a memory that held every detail about every book, shared moment and play that she had ever enjoyed. We were intrigued by each other’s strengths and weaknesses and somehow our differences complemented each other’s perfectly, which in turn offered the foundations that underpinned a solid and important friendship.
Gill had a rare and magical ability to view the world with kindness and generosity. She saw the good in everyone that she met and forgave them for any differences, that others may have been critical of. She had endless patience, tolerance, and fortitude. Yet, she was also flappable, anxious, and worried about very potential outcome, however unlikely that scenario may have been.
Gill phoned me from the airport before she flew off to Italy. She told me about all the things that she was worried about. I told her (again) that she worried too much. I told her I loved her. She told me she loved me. And then we said goodbye…
I will miss my warm, sweet sister-in-law always, but my life is immeasurably richer for having her in it.
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