Farewell, Jodi

Jodi Bardinelli and Julie Whitehorn, photo by Jay Moritz

Jodi Bardinelli, the director of the Kirkland Wednesday Market, passed away on December 30th, a month after being diagnosed with liver cancer. I barely knew Jodi, but I am devastated by her loss.

After friendly exchanges via Twitter, I met Jodi in person when she visited our market last August. We bonded instantly, standing in the midway under a hot sun, enjoying the parade. She was generous in her compliments for our newly-minted enterprise, and enthusiastic about our event schedule (I suspect it was Jerry Traunfeld who lured her to Queen Anne that day). Many of our farmers knew Jodi and greeted her warmly.

We had a lot to talk about, both of us working moms of the same vintage, stressed by the demands on our time, and yet energized by this labor of bringing people together over food. She had a charming sense of the absurd, dubbing us “soul sisters” in the “big, dysfunctional, farmers market family.”

We talked about our freelance work, our favorite farmers, the effect of the economy on farmers markets, about building community, about parenting and dogs (Jodi had referred us to the Humane Society’s MaxMobile for our Dog Day). We talked about our health. Both of us were experiencing breathing problems. Mine were not responding to prednisone, and my doctor had recommended chest x-rays. We wondered if the unusually hot weather played a role, and of course there was the stress. Always the stress.

When Jodi’s lovely daughter Oriana wandered up, smiling under her mom’s praise, it was clear where Jodi’s priorities lay. We hugged each other goodbye and promised to meet soon. There were a few tweets and emails.

We put our markets to bed.

She cancelled a date for Halloween.

And then she was gone.

Jodi had no health insurance. Her job didn’t offer it, and as a single mom, Jodi couldn’t rely on a spouse. By the time she consulted a doctor, it was too late.

I barely knew Jodi, and yet I cycle through grief and anger and guilt. I grieve for Jodi’s family. I’m angry that this extraordinary woman who brought health (through good food and community) to others, was unable to afford health insurance for herself, and the check up that might have saved her life. I feel guilty that my breathing problems disappeared when I finally got some solid rest.

I also feel newly motivated to work for universal healthcare, and to build a market that can pay living wages and benefits.

Tomorrow, Patty Spahr and I will be attending a fundraiser for Jodi’s daughters. Please consider joining us. Go here for more details and a lovely tribute to Jodi by her friend Nancy Leson, the Seattle Times food writer.

“There was love in the game,” wrote Jay Moritz, when he sent me the photo above, about the market that day in August. There was, there is.

Jodi brought her share, and then some.