When Leslie asked me to say a few words here today I told her I might just stand here and cry. “You won’t be the only one”, Leslie said.

Leslie, I don’t know if you know, but soon after you and Melanie got together, Melanie said to me on the phone, in rather an awe-struck tone of voice, “Helena, it doesn’t have to be hard, relationships don’t have to be hard.” And the two of you built the most loving, respect-filled, dynamically loyal life together. And you were that way together until the very end.

If Melanie were here I would tell her “Mel, I finally finished my book”. Melanie was the first person to welcome my writing, to receive it gently, to say to me more, I want to hear more. I wouldn’t have come to this place of writing and finishing if not for her generosity. I never knew anyone who embodied ‘generous’ and ‘humble’ like Mel. She was like my slightly older sister who always had my back, her kindness coming toward me out of those green eyes. She set for me a great example of honesty and fearlessness in her work, affirmed my voice and honored my work, as if it mattered, and made me understand, it does matter.

Melanie and I met in Maine in1983 after the publication of the important book Nice Jewish Girls which she contributed to, and I and my friends devoured. We met over anti-semitism in rural Maine and gravitated to each other, Jewish lesbians in the country. She was already a star in the firmament of lesbian writer-activists. I was flattered by her attention, a little in awe, but despite my awe, we became friends and built a traveling friendship: Maine, Vermont, Brooklyn, Philly, Queens.

I’m remembering one Yom Kippur afternoon we spent together outdoors with books in Fairmont Park in Philly. We came back to the house just before evening. The yahrzeit candles we had lit earlier were still flickering in their cups. “Hi Milt” she said over the candle she lit for her father, starting a tradition for me of talking to the presence in the glowing candles.

A week after Melanie died I received this email from Nava Etshalom, wonderful poet and friend, and a voice from the next generation.

Nava says: “I had a many-hour Shabbes lunch this weekend with some of my dearest queer Jews where we read Melanie’s writing together and talked about what we’d all learned from her work and continued the big conversations we’re always in the middle of, about home & organizing & power & justice. I feel really lucky to have had Melanie as a lifelong influence on my imagination, even from afar.”

Melanie, I feel really lucky as well. Your brave voice, your tender, indomitable spirit, Shine On! through us, who love you, who you loved.