In Memory of Nyla Pavlish

I first met Nyla in the late Spring of 2010 at Gilda's Club, a cancer support group here in NYC.  When Nyla joined, she informed the group that she was diagnosed with stage 4 Leomyosarcoma, a very aggressive form of cancer and it had spread and she was terminal.  That hit all to close to home for me.

 

 Nyla was a statuesque beauty, whose outward beauty was only rivaled by her inner beauty, her grace, her graciousness and her charm.  She was born and raised in Nebraska and it showed. Even though she had spent over twenty years in NYC, she never lost her Midwest values. When she spoke, either in group or just between us,  she did so openly and warmly, with great affection and love, of her family and her life growing up as a child in Nebraska.

Nyla truly was a breath of fresh air, a very welcome change from the jaded New Yorkers.  Nyla was one of those rare individuals that not only fit into any situation, any group of people, she also made people feel comfortable, no matter how she felt. I know that I am richer for having known her and I and all of those who had the pleasure of knowing Nyla are worse off for her passing.

Even though Nyla was terminally ill she lived her life to the fullest.  She was a member of a local skiing and sailing club. Nyla knew she was dying but her illness not going to deter her from living life to the fullest while she was with us.  She was a true inspiration. The fall before she passed she went sailing in the Bahamas, the winter before she passed she went skiing, the spring before she passed she went sailing off the Italian coast.

In the early spring, it was obvious that Nyla had taken a serious turn for the worse.  I would call every few weeks to see if there was anything I could do for her, go food shopping etc. Nyla, always the stoic one, politely said no, but we would chat on the phone for 15 minutes or so, until she got too tired. This went on into late summer.

The morning the east coast was expecting a hurricane, I called Nyla to see if I could be of help.  The forecast was for very nasty weather and I wanted to make sure she had everything she needed. Nyla informed me that she was packing and planned on taking a flight back to Nebraska late that afternoon, before the storm hit. She had seen her oncologist only days before and was told to go home immediately, giving her less than a week to pack up a life of twenty years in NYC. As I hung up the phone, I had a very sick and uncomfortable feeling I would never hear her voice again.

Cancer is very personal, who knows and how much, but there were two of Nyla's very close friends from Gildas Club that I had to call and say "call Nyla now". Part of me feels that I betrayed her trust, but I knew they would want to hear her voice, and I was sure she too would want to hear theirs.

Waiting 10 days, allowing Nyla time to settle in back home, I sent her an e-mail.  Not hearing from her after 5 days, I sent her another email.  Nothing. Finally, after another 5 days, I called Nyla, only to have her brother answer her phone.  He informed me that Nyla passed away the day before. Neal, her brother, and I chatted for a bit and he told me that there would be a service in NYC for all of Nyla's NYC friends in the months to come.

In mid October, there was a very wonderful memorial for Nyla in midtown Manhattan.   I got to meet the other people, the other friends, members of both the ski and sailing club- all those people whose Nyla's life touched and enriched. There were tears, laughter, and stories of Nyla from her childhood.  Nyla would have been touched at the overwhelming support and unconditional love and deep affection that was shown for her.

I still have Nyla's phone number programmed in my cell phone- it is one number I will never delete.  I can't call her, but every time I see it, I smile.  I think of her and am reminded of just how truly blessed I am for having known her- even for just a short time.

From all of us who knew you, from all of us whose life you enriched, we miss you dearly.