Goodbye Lupe

My friend, colleague and fellow sushi lover Lupe Escobar, in one of the more unfair turn of events ever, passed away a few weeks ago. I met and worked with Lupe at Innocean-she was a project manager on the Genesis account.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what to write today, and what I came up with is this: the last thing Lupe would want is some gushing post about her, some perfectly crafted, excrutiatingly curated wording about her life and times.

Of course, if you ask anyone who’s ever worked with me, perfectly crafted has never been an issue.

Lupe would want it real — unfiltered, like she was. So that’s what I’ll try to do.

Lupe was funny. Not just “funny haha,” but sharp, witty, and sometimes a little too honest — which, of course, made her even funnier.

She had this curiosity about people and places that was incredible. When Lupe wanted to know something, she didn’t just read about it — she went there, experienced it, lived it. And when she came back, she’d tell these amazing stories, full of the kinds of little details most people would miss. Listening to her, you felt like you were right there with her.

I can’t tell you how many times I got lost in conversation with her when I was supposed to be working. But talking to Lupe was always better than working anyway.

And now, I have to share something that might make a few of you who knew her jealous: I got a hug from Lupe. Twice. I know — huge deal. Her online handle was nohugsloop, and she meant it. I watched plenty of people go in for a hug and get — let’s call it — gracefully denied. But for some reason, I made the cut: once at a holiday party, and again at my going-away party after someone — and I’m not naming names — made the questionable decision to lay me off. Don’t worry, I’m over it.

Those hugs are among my favorite memories.

Lupe and I had a standing date for years. I was going to take her to my favorite sushi restaurant, Koi in Seal Beach. Until that happened, whenever I was there I’d send her a picture of the food, who I was with or just the chopstick wrapper that said Koi. You always think there’s time, but sadly our sushi extravaganza never happened.

Lupe and I didn’t always agree. When it came to things like vaccinations, we’d have some spirited discussions. Spirited, but respectful.

Lupe was one of a kind. She was bold, curious, funny, and deeply genuine. I know she’ll stay with me the rest of my life.

When I travel somewhere new, I’ll think of her.

When I’m being more honest than people expect — or maybe want — I’ll think of her.

When I’m at Koi I’ll think of her.

And when I’m sitting with someone, laughing, enjoying the ease and realness of the moment, I’ll think of her.

I was lucky to know her, to laugh with her, to hear her stories.

She may be gone, but her spirit will travel with me always.

Godspeed.