Today, Gerry Miller would have been 85 years old.
We love and cherish her memory.
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In Fond Memory of Vivian Geraldine Miller, 1923-2008
1 comment:
Ode to Gerry...
Gerry was one of us... There's no doubt about that. In an exhaustingly persistent and omnipresent sea of conformity, group-think and pretense, Gerry was always there with her unabashed wit and independent spirit.
An iconoclast in every sense of the word - she wouldn't think twice about espousing the philosophies of Buddha, while poking her head out of one of the notches of the Bible Belt.
She was a complex and lovely person who could remind you of how beautiful the world can be.
She could move you to tears with the paralyzing beauty of her calligraphic talents, while simultaneously inciting uncontrollable, convulsive laughter with a string of expletives that could make even the most hardened of sailors cringe in disbelief.
That was Gerry...
She was as wise as she was lovely and as lovely as she was wise. She had grace, she had style and, above all, she believed in the future.
She could talk of Native Americans' centuries old belief that we should live as a people who considered the outcomes of the next seven generations.
Cynicism was not her friend. In fact, I don't think it was ever allowed in her house - that "fucking Rose of Sharon," she would say.
They broke the mold when they made Gerry... I can safely say that for all of my travels, I've never met anyone quite like her.
To be in her presence was a treat and I savored every moment with her. She radically altered my naive conceptions of what getting older might be like. With Gerry, the idea of one turning 80 years old was less like Lawrence Welk and more like Studio 54.
Gerry rocked and I'll never forget her for it... She had more magic in a single fingernail than most have in their entire bodies.
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