Make That Call

This post has a point. Bear with me.

When I graduated from college, I had a useless degree and had not done what I needed to do to get a job in the field my degree related to. My one marketable skill was that I was a fast typist. I got a job at the local law school, McGeorge School of Law. I worked in the Faculty Office as a receptionist and word processor.

But … I thought I was meant for bigger and better things. After a year, I started a masters program at the local university. International Relations. After a month or so, I dropped out because the workload was something I couldn’t possibly manage while also working full-time.

After a few months of casting about and worrying that I would be a receptionist for the rest of my life, I got a promotion to Executive Assistant for one of the Assistant Deans, and … looked around at all the students and thought that if they could do it, so could I. So, I enrolled in McGeorge’s Evening program, and the rest was history!!! (law school is easier than grad school, just so you know)

I continued to work as an Executive Assistant for the first two years of law school, but after that, I quit that job and worked as a student assistant for the Victims of Crime Resource Center that was housed on campus as a part of the Institute for Administrative Justice. I remained there for my final two years of law school, while also working as a research assistant for one of my professors.

Upon graduating, I somehow passed the bar on my first try and then looked around and realized I needed a job. Fortunately, for me, the folks at the Institute decided to hire me as a staff attorney. Which basically meant that I spent the next 4 1/2 years of my life conducting special education administrative hearings, dangerous dog hearings, and training hearing officers working for other agencies.

All told, I worked and went to school at McGeorge for 11 years. At the time I left, I felt like I was leaving a home. I knew everybody on campus and there were a lot of good people there.

One of them was Jeanne. She worked at the Institute and I first got to know her a bit when I started at the Victims of Crime Resource Center. Then as a staff attorney I interacted with her on a daily basis. She reviewed all of my written decisions. She was a critical part of our training programs.

In many respects, she became my work mother. When I was younger, there were women who became that — kind of mother-like figures in the workplace. When I got a little older, there were work wives. Women who were a critical part of how I got through the day, through the work. Women who I could talk to about things and feel safe regardless of what was on my mind.

Jeanne was one of my work moms. She was a woman with incredible grace. When she laughed it lit up the room, it was the best. I’ll never forget how when something really tickled her, she would lean back, put her hand on her chest and laugh, almost uncontrollably. And she always had time for me or for anybody else who worked there.

Jeanne was a wonderful woman. I can’t remember ever having a negative experience with her. She was just one of those people who responded to everybody with a smile, a kind word, and an offer of help.

When I left McGeorge in 1998, we kept in touch, but as with all such things, our interactions became more and more sporadic. I’d call her every once in awhile. A couple of years ago, we went to lunch. She so enjoyed the lunch and insisted we should do it again. I never followed through with it and our calls became even more sporadic.

The last time I called was probably around a year ago. We had a good conversation and promised to talk again. Ever since, she has been on the list of people I need to call. To check in, to see how she’s doing, to re-connect with her and with our times way back when. I never made another call

Today, I learned that Jeanne passed away earlier this month. She was a woman with a lot of health issues from the day I first met her. But she made it to 85 years. A life filled with her kids and grandkids. A respected professional who left a legacy that touched many who made their way through McGeorge and the Institute for Administrative Justice.

I only wish I had made just one more phone call. Ignored the voice in my head that always says, “I’ll do it tomorrow,” but tomorrow never comes. And then one day, there isn’t even the chance of a tomorrow.

Do me a favor … if there is a Jeanne in your life, make that call. Today, not tomorrow.