What Would Nora Do?

I’m too sad to write anything today – honestly, I feel like I’ve lost a friend, I’ve got a headache from crying on and off since I first heard the news at 6 this morning – but here’s something I posted on this blog last year.

“You do get to a certain point in life where you have to realistically, I think, understand that the days are getting shorter, and you can’t put things off thinking you’ll get to them someday. If you really want to do them, you better do them. There are simply too many people getting sick, and sooner or later you will. So I’m very much a believer in knowing what it is that you love doing so you can do a great deal of it.”

Nora Ephron
Film Director, Producer, Screenwriter, Novelist

(via Swissmiss)

I made this one day when I was feeling particularly in need of inspiration:

About these ads

9 thoughts on “What Would Nora Do?

    1. I should say it was totally inspired by a WWND sticker that Diane Shipley bought me years ago. It’s on my pinboard and I look at it every day.

  1. Fabulous and oh so true! Live each day like there’s no tomorrow. That’s why we are doing the campervan thing. Because, who knows what tomorrow may bring? My Mum found out she was dying 11 days before it happened and by then she was too ill and out of it to do anything. I’d hate for that to happen to anyone else I care about… ((hugs Keris)). Have your day of sadness and then get back to living your wonderful life with your beautiful family! xxxx

  2. She’s gone far too soon but at least she knew she needed to make the most of life. I’m sure a lot of that was prompted by her diagnosis, and I guess that’s the secret upside of life-threatening illness, it does help you prioritise. (The secret upside of death being not having to worry about your hair anymore, obvs.)

    I went through a rollercoaster of emotion last night, I can tell you. Finding out news on Twitter is terrible, but I was too anxious to stay away. From hearing about her death at 11ish, and feeling that horrible cold prickle of shock and panic, to “finding out” that was a rumour and relaxing, to discovering she was in hospital, to finding out she’d died, took over two hours. Then I cried loads, ordered 2 of her essay collections, and finally slept, dreaming I got a video player so I could watch This Is My Life. (Which I now need to do.)

    1. Oh I wondered if you’d seen that play out. I don’t know why her publisher denied it when it was clear if she hadn’t already died, then she certainly would do soon. Seems unnecessary to give people that hope. I’m glad I missed it. Instead, it was the first thing I saw when I got up.

      I still can’t believe it though. This morning I keep thinking I’m feeling miserable for no reason and then i remember. It really is like losing a friend. I’ve been re-reading IFBAMN and her voice is just so strong.

      1. Yes, it would have been better to not say anything, really. And having read Liz Smith’s tribute, I still had my doubts she was OK, so it didn’t really help.

        I can’t believe it either. I’ve never felt as upset about a death outside of my family. I realised yesterday how much she meant to so many people, though, which helped a little. (Although another part of me was like, “She was MY imaginary friend, not yours, internet stranger!”)

        1. Ha, yes. When Hadley Freeman wrote that she was everyone’s imaginary best friend (or something), I was like… oh.

Comments are closed.