In Memoriam

“Can I %^&*ing talk to you for a minute?”

Those were the first words my late friend Jeannine Lennihan Firestone said to me.  I was running a project–moving her and the department she worked for to another building.  The type of project I’ve run a dozen times in my 30-year career.

“Sure,” I said.  “What’s up?” (Having grown up in New York, I was very used to the f-word being used as punctuation).

Jeannine spent ten minutes grilling me with questions she had regarding the move.  I answered each of her questions–and at the end, she smiled at me (with that nose wrinkling crooked smile that melted hearts everywhere) and said “Okay then.  That’s satisfactory.”

From her, that was high praise.

I know it sounds bitchy—and I guarantee I thought the same thing back then.  But it wasn’t.  It was just Jeannine.  She is—was (I’m still having difficulties speaking about her in the past tense) a perfectionist.  And the simple fact is she expected that from everyone.

We are talking about a woman who made director of a pharmaceutical company in her mid-thirties, was an extremely talented artist, a sports competitor (She played professional dodgeball while pregnant.–very VERY pregnant), a mom and a wife.

Many of these things she also did while fighting stage four cancer.

While I was dating my wife in 2007, she mentioned to Jeannine that I was going to move in.  Confused, Jeannine asked “But where will he sleep?”

My wife gave her a look. Jeannine responded with “Oh!  I thought he was gay!”

“I assure you,” said my wife. “He’s not.”

A conversation we never let her forget.

Jeannine was someone full of life, full of competitive spirit, and full of love.  For her husband, Brant. Her son, Graham.  Her sister and the rest of her family.  Not to mention the far too numerous number of friends to name. She was a bright light that everyone wanted to see and be with.  Honest to a fault, demanding as all hell and one of the most amazing people I’ve ever had the privilege to know.

Her memory is something I will carry with me forever.  As I used a bit of who she is in one of the main characters in my series, I will always be visiting with her from time to time.

Right now, she’d be yelling at me for being sentimental.  But she’d be doing it with a twinkle in her eye, secretly pleased.

She might even consider it… satisfactory.

We love you J.  And always will.

Peace