Gabrielle Esther Lewis

Gabrielle Esther Lewis, born Feb. 24, 1994, died August 26, 2016. We are told that Gabi developed an undetected deep vein thrombosis, and a resulting blood clot apparently moved to her lungs. She died almost instantly.

Gabi was a pure, loving, beloved spirit. She was fearless and tough beyond limits. Gab was born with challenges, and she never shied away from them, never surrendered to them, and never gave up on herself or her family and friends. Her courage extended beyond her personal challenges. Gab loved without fear, without reservation, and was generous with her love. When Gab was your friend, she was your friend for life, forever. She would, and often did, do anything for those she loved.

Gabi had a poet’s heart and sensibility. She wrote poems for herself and her friends. Some are dark and some are light and mystical. Others are hilarious. And they are all 100% Gabi.

Gabi was color-blind when it comes to people, and was like that from birth. She never saw people as belonging to an ethnicity, religion, political party, or gender. She only saw people as people, and she accepted every single one of them.

As color-blind as Gabi was to people, she saw the world in complete Technicolor. She loved vivid, electric hues, and her hair became a beacon, a symbol for this. She was born with a shock of orange/black hair, which turned blonde naturally. And then turned every color of the rainbow by her own hand. Gab’s hair became her trademark, her way of expressing her creativity and freedom from convention.

Gab had no facility to understand mean people, no point of reference.

Gabrielle is survived by her mother, Pam Krop and her father, Jordan Lewis, her sisters, Ilana and Talia Lewis, her grandparents Diana Lewis and Drs. Michael and Lois Krop and many Aunts, Uncles and Cousins, all of whom will miss her dearly.

We’d like to share one of her poems, entitled “why?”:

I know of a place with cozy warm snow.

It falls below the endless ebony rainbow,

across the red night sky.

Sky scrapers can be found

miles underground,

organized into random lines.

I’ve watched the music float in the breeze

and heard the flowers bloom behind me.

I’ve felt an old man’s poetry like a kiss on the cheek,

And I wonder: Why would I ever leave?