Natalie Gubbay—the Wellesley community remembers
It is often that we receive a request to run an obituary on The Swellesley Report. Most recently, the family of Natalie Gubbay, who died in a car crash on Oct. 23, wanted to make sure that everyone in Wellesley knew about Natalie’s amazing but short life. Natalie’s sister and father wrote a moving tribute to her. Please read their words here.
It’s rare that we receive a follow-up request to keep the community updated. How did the family manage during this indescribably tender time of laying to rest their 26-year old daughter, sister, friend ? How did a community come together in the face of such tragedy?
Here’s how, as written by Teri Adler, a close family friend of the Gubbays. The following words were shared with Rachel Gubbay, Natalie’s mother. Rachel was deeply moved and has requested that it be shared with a wider audience.
It is honor and privilege to do so on The Swellesley Report.
The Meaning of Community—A Wellesley Tale
Fall in New England takes on a rich, sometimes glorious and sometimes melancholy feel that permeates our days. As the bright fall leaves change into their muted and brittle form, this ever-changing background creates an inner emotion filled with hope, comfort and sometimes dread, knowing the long cold winter is ahead.
Last week in Wellesley this expected landscape was the setting where we collectively mourned with dear friends, as a result of an unthinkable tragedy. One of our own—a wonderful, brilliant, kind and special 26 year-old girl was taken from us one night while driving home after a trivia night outing with friends. Natalie Gubbay was hit by a reckless drunk driver in Minneapolis.
This tremendous person, now lost to us, was a Wellesley native and the daughter of one of Jeff and my closest friends.
This reflection is about the extraordinary community who instantly rallied to create a fortified support system for the family, and helped them create a moving tribute to the daughter they lost. It was a sight that called out for documentation, in my humble opinion. I don’t claim to be a ring leader, but a quiet observer and servant to those who needed my help.
The women of Wellesley created an effective force in one week that grabbed hold of the town. The love and power it emitted was palpable. As soon as we learned of the accident, trips were cancelled, flights rebooked back to Boston, and day jobs were put on hold.
In a matter of hours, countless text chains were created, committees formed and skill sets defined as people stepped into positions where they needed to be to help create a memorial service, candle lighting, and reception worthy of Natalie and her family’s greatness. We worked with an intense, yet quiet focus. The goal bound us, as did our sadness and grief that took hold of every inch of our bodies. Town organizations also stepped up, offering anything to aid this heartbroken network.
Enter the effective, loving and strong women of Wellesley. Dozens, if not hundreds, stepped up to take on roles where they would be most effective. Whether you knew the family or not, it did not matter. There was no time for agendas or pride, only a place for determination fueled by love. Sarah and Carol led us in the planning of the church service. Veronica and Lisbeth spent countless hours on the brochure and photo, out-of-town guests were guided by Tracy so they felt at home in our town, and housed by Michelle and Patti. No detail was left for chance. If there was a potential hole in the planning at least ten others were always eager to step up and problem solve. If you listened closely, I know you could hear a chorus of, “how can I help?” Halloween passed us by, since many of us were instead meeting together to go over the agenda for Saturday, making sure each step was perfectly choreographed and in line with the family’s wishes.
The tennis team, led by Betsy and Sally, meticulously curated a beautiful venue at the reception site at Wellesley Village Church. My husband Jeff edited a moving tribute for the family. Heather led dozens of people in order to create an incredibly moving candlelight service by the duck pond that Natalie loved. Her brilliant idea came to life when 75 high school athletes from Wellesley, and my own daughter’s gymnastics team (Natalie was a gymnast and had recently started practicing the sport again) lined the walkway to the ceremony while holding candles. Young athletes who didn’t know Natalie felt the heaviness of this day and the preciousness of life in general. Tears fell from their eyes, while those attending walked by and mustered “thank you’s” for taking their Saturday night to honor such a special person taken away too soon. It was one of the most moving things I have ever seen. Countless volunteers handed out candles to the attendees and increased the glow the kids had started. Thank you Kelly, Missy, Christine and Shani, to name a few.
Wellesley Country Club became a symbol of all that is good. Their flag at half-staff was a steady reminder of the deep loss in our community. And they also opened up their buildings for any and all who were helping, and hosted the reception where just a few short weeks ago we gathered to celebrate a family friend’s birthday. The same women who lifted each other up only a few short weeks ago shifted gears to now use their strength to help a friend in need. Country Club employees came in early, wiping tears from their tired eyes to work with members and non-members alike setting up the rooms. A waiter told me since Natalie’s death the restaurants had been quieter. Those we couldn’t see or didn’t know were also mourning with us.
Wellesley Hills Junior Women’s Club rushed to their warehouse to gather the last of their luminary kits, which would light up the pathway to the reception after we learned this holiday tradition in town was one of Natalie’s favorites. The police department, parks department, and Wellesley Village Church all offered, without any hesitation, whatever was needed to ensure the day of remembrance would be smooth, calm and inviting. And it was. Sue, John, Lisbeth, Emily, and others ushered people delicately to their seats. The service was beautiful, and in the end the younger kids who looked up to Natalie all these years (Emily, Eliza, Morgan and Anna) handed out seeds with a poem written for Nat by a dear friend from Atlanta. If anything comforting could come out of a horrific situation it was the raw and powerful words spoken by those who loved Natalie, while their loving friends and family listened and learned.
Right now, we hear the word “divided” so often, but this last week we experienced the opposite. This incredible town came together and formed an unbreakable bond. It was born from tragedy, but it showed us our common good can still bind us. Thank you Natalie for that one last gift.