08:50
Pierre Blanchard
When Nicole passed away, I stayed by her side for those last three days. I held space for her, watched over her, and made sure she knew she wasn’t alone. When she finally took her last breath, we began preparing her tomorrow—with tenderness, with care, and with a deep desire to preserve her beauty, just as she deserved.
While I stepped away to give her a moment of quiet privacy, my daughter Claudia and our dear friend Sunali lovingly dressed her, surrounding her with grace and gentleness. Then I returned to her, my heart both heavy and full. I made the calls—first to the doctors, then to those who would take her to the hospital, where her body would be donated to science, just as she had wished. She wanted to help others, even in death, and I honored that.
Letting her go was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It still is. But I carry her wishes with me, and I carry her love. And in doing so, I carry her forward.
Once she was gone, the grieving part on my end was incredibly difficult—even though I tried to hide it. She was like a mother to me, offering a kind of unconditional love that’s rare and precious. That kind of loss leaves a quiet ache. It took time, and it wasn’t easy, but eventually, I began to heal. Slowly, with love and memory, I overcame it.
So I understand the heaviness you all are enduring and the need to respect the wishes of your loved ones. It is hard—but it is necessary. In honoring them, we show our deepest love. And somehow, in the midst of the pain, that love carries us too.