Julia Cooke

I was, am so sorry to hear about Julie's passing. I have thought of her more often than I have ever expressed.

She was among the first people to take me seriously as a writer, but in her own, not overly serious, offhand way — which meant so much more. Before I even knew to take myself seriously in my career she seemed to. Honestly, I could not have articulated this until yesterday, and I think I may forever wish I had told Julie herself. She meant so much to me at a time when I really needed that kind of confidence. She made no bones about it; she just knew. I cannot accurately express to you what that meant to me.

Since I have had my own children, I have trawled through my mind for a pantheon of women who had kids who were, for lack of a better term, still very much themselves. It is so easy to lose oneself in babies and the love for them; Julie emanated both love and individuality. The older I get, the more I admire her. Her combination of maternal warmth and exuberant irreverence was just incredible and honestly I have no idea how she did it, but her existence will continue to buoy me as my own children get older.

It feels very strange, even to me at this distance of time and space, that a world turns without Julie in it. She was gravitational. I am so sorry for your family’s loss. I know from Rose what an incredible grandmother she was; I am so sorry. Please accept these thoughts and my deepest, most sincerely felt condolences.