Bonnie Rochman, Staff Writer
DURHAM -
Debra Kent was a mover and shaker in the world of HIV/AIDS nonprofits, a professional fundraiser with an activist bent. But what she really wanted was to be a mom.
She achieved that, if only for a few years.
Kent died a few months ago of ovarian cancer. She was 55.
Born in Brooklyn, Kent moved to California in her mid-20s and began her nonprofit work. She worked with women and transgender people as executive director of a health services agency in San Francisco. She helped establish a residential hospice for people with AIDS and worked for various AIDS foundations and research institutes.
In 1994, she met Jamie Lamkin, a friend of friends who was vacationing on the West Coast. They cross-country dated for a while until Lamkin moved to California to be with Kent.
Kent told Lamkin of her longing for a child. Lamkin was on board. When numerous attempts at pregnancy didn't pan out for Kent, she began the adoption process. Because of the nature of their relationship, Lamkin played a secondary role, largely in the shadows as the adoption wound its way through the appropriate channels and across continents.
That, and other issues, took a toll on the couple.
They split up, and, in 2001, Lamkin moved to North Carolina. Their relationship seemed to be over.
But they stayed in touch as the time grew closer for Kent to travel to Ukraine and claim Sofie, her adopted daughter. About a year after they broke up, they got back together. For the next couple of years, until Sofie was 4, they flew from coast to coast regularly, forging family time in snatches of shared weekends.
By 2004, Kent had had enough. She and Sofie packed up their belongings and moved to Durham. Kent got a job as director of development at UNC-Chapel Hill's health sciences library. Her single-parent days were over, she thought.
But a year after the move, Kent and Lamkin decided, for good, that they were better friends -- and parents -- than lovers.
Nine months later, Kent was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. A few months later, Lamkin learned she had endometrial cancer.
Doctors treating Kent were optimistic, but the cancer returned. At one point, both women were undergoing chemotherapy at the same time.
Lamkin recovered, but Kent went downhill. As she got sicker, the two women concentrated on making memories for Sofie. So they set sail on one of Rosie O'Donnell's partner cruises as a family. They traveled to Washington, D.C., and to the beach.
Since Kent and Sofie had moved to North Carolina, Lamkin had played the part of the fun parent, the one who took care of Sofie every other weekend and let her get away with things that a full-time parent simply can't sanction.
Now, quietly, the two women focused on helping Lamkin make the transition from the role of "other mom" to primary caregiver.
Telling SofieLamkin began caring for Sofie during the week, helping with homework. At the end of last summer, she moved back in, sleeping in the guest room as Kent grew unable to care for herself, let alone a child.
"We were really open with Sofie about everything," Lamkin said.
The day Kent's mother arrived, Lamkin asked Sofie if she knew why Grandma was coming.
"To see Mama Debra?" Sofie said.
"Do you know why she's really coming?" Lamkin asked. "Sofie, Mama Debra's not going to get better."
Not long after, as Sofie splashed in the bathtub, she requested permission to say the "s" word, which in her household is "stupid."
"Stupid, dumb cancer," Sofie said, then she wrote that on the tub with crayons and drew pictures, too.
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