In Memory of Gavi

Below is my  tribute to a dear friend and Bastard activist, Gavriela  Maxime Ze'eva Person, who died on August 10, 1997. Gavi contributed "Ghosts" to  Voices of Adoption before her untimely death.

Only Gavi could find the words to define herself and redefine herself if she wants.  Her memory deserves far more eloquence than words I can conjure here. Whatever description  I could personally come up with will certainly pale.

Gavi, one of Bastard Nation's founding foundlings, gifted us with dark, disturbing humor  which shaped Bastard Nation into more than just an activist group, but a movement with  soul and humor.

Gavi made us laugh, and made the uncomfortable comfortable and funny.

She was a contradiction. Gavi embraced her birth heritage while being resolved against  searching. Her stories about herself and her whole being was contradictory, on purpose.  Perhaps it was her way to emphasize the secrets and lies we live under, or perhaps it is  to confuse the demons inside her.

She was an intellectual, an artist and a poet, and her words gush out and grab you, like  the name, Bastard Nation. Her words disturbing, raw, ribald, and honest.

Gavi loved her bastards.

She truly wanted us to peel off onion-like layers of ourselves in order for us to get  closer to each other, like kin. Often, she would not understand how folks couldn't open up  and expose themselves in the manner that she did.

Her nature was maternal, at a drop of a hat she would make sure you would eat a huge country breakfast, and would also offer words of healing. At the same time, she was a  little sister, who we worried about and felt helpless in times when her illness would spin  her out of control.

Gavi was the Magdalen and Moses of BN. She danced with ghosts. She danced with her Jewish  and Irish ancestors and connected with their sorrows and injustices inflicted upon them.  She danced with her Bastardy. Gavi was the ultimate bastard living celebrating the shame and speaking of feelings and thoughts that many of us were afraid to utter or think, until  she made it okay.

She was this warm tropical storm that would roll in to mix things up, challenge us, and  make us laugh or cry. Sometimes the storm was pleasant, and sometimes it would get out of  control. Who would think that this force of nature would cease to return after one of her  many absences?

Many of us now, who felt overwhelmed by her last storm, would do anything to have her  storm crash upon us again, because we want her back.

Bitterly and sadly, all our second-guesses, regrets, things not said or done will not  bring her back to us. That truth stings and hurts like hell. We are going to mourn and  mourn her well.

In our mourning, we should celebrate how she spent her short life she had here. By being a  creator, she gifted us with a way to keep her near. Gavi will be with us every time we put  on the BN T-shirt, laugh about something dark and painful, and develop a bond with a  fellow bastard.

We should feel good about who we are. This magnificent woman chose us to give over her  heart, passion, and talent to. A spirit like that chose Bastard Nation as home, if only  for a short time. She called this home and she called us brethren. This fact offers me  great joy, pride, and solace.

Shalom and Requiescat en Pace, my dear Gavi.

We will miss you well.

Deni
Wed, 3 Sep 1997 14:48:07

 

 
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