I learned of the tragic death of Helene Zucker Seeman two weeks ago. She was hit by a drunk driver on Sunday, June 27th. Helene and her husband Fred were making a left turn into their driveway when they were hit. Helene was killed instantly; Fred was air evacuated, in critical condition, to the hospital.

I'd known Helen for almost 30 years. She was the art consultant for the Prudential Corporation and in her position she was a tremendous support for emerging artists' works on paper.

One day while I was in the shop, Helene just showed up at the door and rang the bell. I had no idea who she was until she introduced herself. I nearly fell on my knees to kiss her feet. But Helene was light, breezy, unselfconscious and kind. She told me she was rushing by and wanted to say "hello". Here was a print world goddess dropping bye to just say hi! I had been placing art with her collection, but had always worked with her assistants. In my private world view, I had presumed she did not think we were important enough to visit. Three decades on I understood that she told her assistants which pieces she liked by going through the slides I assiduously sent to her.

One day I called the office and learned that the young woman I worked with had just died tragically. She was so young and left a young husband and newborn behind. After that, whenever I called Prudential, I spoke directly with Helene.

I can no longer recall which of our "great recessions" we were going through (there have been so many) when Helene told me her buying budget was cut. She could no longer acquire and/or support emerging artists. There was a great deal of corporate culture going on and not in a good way. Helene wasn't happy and not long after that she left the post.

From that time on I got to see Helene whenever we had a summer print sale. She had her personal favorites and would always come in and buy something. It was such a pleasure to see her relate to the art and to get excited about it. I was thrilled to see a person honestly love our work and believe in the artist.

Recently, I had a period where I was letting go of my very favorite works at discounts I cannot bring myself to express here. Helene came in and bought one. It killed me to let it go, but we needed the sale and I was grateful to Helene. I was also happy that the work would be in her collection.

A few months later, on the advice of one of the country's major print curators, I decided I had to put together an archival exhibition of my prints. I wrote to Helene asking if I could borrow the last piece she bought, should I be able to launch a travelling exhibition of Pelavin Editions. I did not hear from her and in my usual way I worried that I had offended her.

When spring arrived this year I emerged in my annual attempt to "walk off the weight." Sweating and feeling sorry for myself I ran into Helene. She was rushing; she had so much to do; she and the family were preparing to go to Princeton, New Jersey for the summer. I had been trying to sell my loft and she asked if I had had any luck? I hadn't and, in an attempt to make a comparison of the real estate markets over the past years, she told me how she sold her loft for just what she wanted in 24 hours, even after everyone else told her she was crazy.

"Oh, how great", I managed to say, feeling sick to my stomach. Then I mentioned my e-mail regarding the possibility of borrowing back her last purchase.

"Of course, of course, you can borrow it back."

"Oh, I thought you were mad at me for asking."

"Cheryl, how could I ever be mad at you?"

Then we made hasty good-byes. I walked away slowly, thinking, "what a golden life she has. How perfect it all is for Helene." This is never a safe way to think. I really did adore her and her last loving words rang in ears and stayed in my heart. It was like an embrace of my heart.

That was my last meeting with Helene Seeman. I learned of her death by accident. Todd Masters has been introducing himself to my clients and collectors and one afternoon he could not find Helene's website online. He told me about that and said all he could find were news stories reporting her death. Before I got to look at his screen, I knew it was Helene, but instead I said, "Oh, she's in Princeton, that's why you can't reach her."

But the little news article was set in New Jersey and it mentioned Helene and Fred. Fred was so much a part of Helene's conversation that when I saw his name in the article my heart froze. I was stunned and horrified. I spent hours online looking for a story about Helene, until I realized the story was not about Helene and Fred. They were just the victims. The story was about the actress who was driving drunk and hit them. It's taken me weeks to be able to get enough of my thoughts together to write this remembrance for her.

Helene embodied the gift of radiance, an energy of goodness and love. She was one of the most wonderful people I've had the honor and pleasure of working with and to count among the people I've loved. My heart goes out to Fred Seeman and their two boys, Curtis and Ford. It seems so impossible that a person like Helene could be taken out of life just like that, in one instant. One of the things that bothered me the most was that I had been cheated of a good-bye. Here she was leaving all of us behind and we could not bid her farewell. They say that a person is not truly gone as long as there is one person left to remember her. If that is true, then Helene Seeman will be with us for a very long time.

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