On the day of my book launch, my friend Helen, sent me an email with regrets. She wasn’t able to come to my launch party that day. She had already sent me a note, in capital letters: “I LOVE YOUR JOURNALIST BOOK!!!!” Her husband Gary was there at the party—I noticed him on my Zoom screen.

Helen was in pain—her cancer had come back. She was dying. And yet, she took the time to send her loving note of support.

That was Helen. Full of love. She was a world-class hugger. When we got together, she would fly across the room to give us hugs.

She was full of joy. Even in her pain.

Helen and Gary had an annual New Year’s Eve party. At the stroke of midnight, we would drink champagne and they would lead us in their special song: “Joy! Joy! Joy!” The words truly fit Helen.

Helen and Gary had nicknames for each other—H and G. It was obvious they adored one another. Together, and individually, they did everything they could to make the world a better place.

Helen Q. Kivnick was a woman of accomplishments. She was a professor and wrote books. We met 30 years ago—we were introduced because of our shared interest in gerontology, the study of aging.

Helen helped to launch the vital aging movement in the field of gerontology—she believed that there was too much emphasis on the losses in old age. So, she studied what elders could do, rather than their deficits, and how to keep us vital as we grow old.

Her interests were eclectic—music, art, artsy clothing, hand-crafted jewelry, gourmet food, travel, social justice… She founded and directed City Songs—a choral group for disadvantaged youth.

It was only on the day of her funeral that I learned what her middle initial “Q” stands for—Quintessa. How perfect. Helen was quintessential as a friend, a woman, a person in this world. My heart aches.