Last night I dreamed that I was at Ellen’s apartment in New York. It was a replay of one of my many visits with her after I moved to Florida. We were going out to dinner and I was sitting at her dressing table (which I sometimes used when I visited) putting on the last of my makeup. I could hear her heels clicking across the floor near the entrance of her front door, so I quickly finished and grabbed my bag and hurried out to meet her. As I rounded the entrance into the hallway, she was almost out of the door, dressed in one of her “Ellen” suits, she held a Chanel tote that she bought when we shopped together. She turned and looked over her shoulder. I started to cry and say “I want to come with you!” and she said “no…. you can’t”.
On Tuesday, June 7th Doug received an email message from Ellen Fine. This was not out of the ordinary. Ellen, many times, emailed Doug instead of me asking him how he was and what was going on – and then she would ask him to tell me to call her.
On this email, Doug happily told Ellen about his new car (a 2004 Jag) and how much he loved it. Doug told me about the email that night and I decided to call Ellen the next morning but, of course, I was distracted and forgot. On Wednesday evening, Doug and I watched TV and I went to bed early; the phone range around 9:30p but I didn’t answer, already midway into my sleep. The next morning I checked the call and it was from Jean, Ellen’s daughter with no message. I didn’t think much about it – Ellen must have lost her cell and is borrowing Jean’s; or, maybe they are together out in the Hamptons, etc.
Thursday morning I emailed Ellen and told her I would call her before noon. The email was returned to me saying she was no longer at her company and I could call one of two numbers to learn more. I remembered when Ellen left her job at Morgan Stanley to move to Janney – there was no announcement – you just up and leave in her industry, so I called her home phone and left a message saying something like “ok, where are you now?”
I didn’t hear back. On Thursday afternoon I received a call from a mutal Bloomingdale’s friend, Debbie Blankman, who delivered the news. Ellen had passed, unexpectedly, at about 11:00 a.m. on Tuesday (1/2 hour after she had emailed Doug).
Well, where do I start?
Ellen and I both worked a Bloomingdale’s back in the 80’s. She was already an accomplished Buyer by the time I arrived and I really didn’t get to know her better until we both left Bloomingdale’s, but the reason this is told is that Bloomingdale’s was the common ground for an interesting group of people that were an intregal part of Ellen’s world. And all of us maintained our cordial friendships over the years; but always came together for the Annual Christmas Party or Summer Birthday Party Ellen hosted joyously each an every year. This circle of friends was formed by Ellen.
Ellen and I found a lot of surprises in our friendship – our first marriages were on the same day and year – December 26. Our first-born children both came into the world in September; our second children were both born in the first quarter of 1971; there was no third for me, but we shared the third: little Jean – an incredibly bright and vivacious girl that I had the pleasure of watching grow up, marry a wonderful man, have a family and be highly successful in her work.
But much more than all of the statistics is that Ellen and I were soulmates. It was a very special connection that has never been duplicated. We lived through so many good times and hard times and bad times together. We watched our children grow up, finish school, party together, become engaged, marry and have precious children. Can you imagine how many showers there were – and neither of us ever forgot any birtday or special occasion. Our calls were always started with a funny greeting – “El? El!”.
Even though Ellen was married to her wonderful Sid, she always had her time with me. It wasn’t found; it was planned. When Sid passed, Ellen in all of her strength, allowed me to see her very fragile and vulnerable side. Privately.
One very cold night in New York, probably 20 years ago, Ellen visited me at my little apartment at 7 E. 85th St. She was wearing a white cashmere sweater and camel skirt. The fire was lit and we turned the two slipper chairs in my living room around so that we could face the fire. We took our shoes off and shared an ottoman. Ellen sipped her White Label and I my white wine. Lots of talk, long into the night. Jobs, loves, children (none were married yet!) clothing, jewelry, designers, gossip, weddings, funerals – and how we wanted ours to be. We laughed and we cried.
Holidays of Easter, Christmas, Passover. Movies – too many to name, but one that stands out was Sideways. We laughed at the movie and laughed at the elderly lady sitting next to me who fell asleep on my shoulder. Dinners – too many to remember; always Chinese if it was just the two of us eating in – we must have shared hundreds of meals together.
The unfathomable 9/11, my youngest sister dying (Sid and Ellen were there for me all the way through), illnesses big and small, the passing of wonderful Sid.
Being single – Finally she understood my foibles when she found herself single!
Our homes, no matter how many, were alway important to us. We both wanted them to be warm and friendly and pretty and happy.
Being Catholic – we loved Midnight mass at St. Ignatius; Karin’s wedding and Jean’s wedding; who could make better matzo balls; pierogi; deviled eggs on Easter.
Style – She liked color, I did not; she wore skirts/dresses, I did not but yet, we loved simple style with beautiful fabric. Her jewelry was exquisite especially the many gifts from Sid. I liked very high heels (now flats), she loved mid. But we both really loved each and every handbag we lusted for or owned. On Saturdays we would meet and then shop at Bergdorf’s, Saks and Bloomingdale’s always looking for the special bag.
So I flew up the New York for the wake (at Frank E. Campbell naturally) and the Mass. I was worried about the children, Andrew, Liz and Jean. Not surprising that they were incredibly put together both inside and out. All was just as Ellen had planned it would be, even though they didn’t realize – it was how she brought them up – it was natural. And the evening of the wake, in came the circle of friends: Barbara, Ann, Dodie, Marge, Arthur, Gary & Carlos, Jay, Michael and, happily, Bill. Just as Ellen would have wanted – a big party and she was the organizer.
The Mass was beautiful, celebrated at St. Jean Baptiste where once we, the circle of friends, smiled as Jean was married to Kyle. But it was just too much for all of us. Put together, and in sweet sorrow, we formed a rosary of tears for our much-loved Ellen.
You, my dear, will be very missed. Till we meet again!
Paradise Found 