Hi. Its
Maggie again. You may have just read my dad’s post. Heavy stuff. I know. Just
to clear things up, my mom is still in the Banner Thunderbird Hospital here in
Phoenix. This is a wonderful hospital. She has a corner room to herself with
two huge windows, her own bathroom and a convertible couch I can sleep on. The
nurses are friendly and kind. Compared to the other hospitals I have been to
with her, this one gets an A+. And who would have thought we would find it out
here in the desert (a million thanks to Devra for discovering it and getting my
mom admitted while she was out here)
I know
some of you may think I am crazy for being so grateful she is in a
hospital. But having been with her the week
before we took her to the ER gave me some perspective. As she wrote in her last blog, she was slowly drowning. There was very little Devra and I could do to alleviate her misery. The X-ray of her lungs had shown up clean and the doctors at Euromed thought they sounded alright. Turns out she needed a CAT scan to show what was really going on in there. I guess we could beat ourselves up about not having seen the obvious and insisting that she get more medical attention, but what on Earth would that accomplish? We're all doing our best, trying not to fall off this crazy caregiver tightrope. I could boil in my anger with doctors and treatments and the gods all day long. But I'd rather just accept that sometimes, shit happens.
Once
they had drained the litres of fluid out of her lungs in the hospital (for the
second time, mind you!) and she could breath for the first time in weeks, I
told her she had officially won the tough cookie award and that she is now
under strict orders to stop striving for it! I wish my mom could see how brave she already is. She inspires me every day.
Anyway, it is such a relief to
finally see her receiving the care she needs. But in addition to the nursing
staff and the three of us here, (soon to be four with Devra flying out again
tomorrow) I thought my mom could use some extra support from her dear friends
and family who read this blog. She needs all the love she can get right now.
So I was
thinking that to change it up a bit, we could cut out cancer talk for a little.
Nothing about this pain-in-the-ass disease, no words of encouragement. I think
it would be great if everyone who is able to would comment on this blog post.
Write something you love about my mom. Maybe a trait you admire, a funny story,
or a great experience you shared together. I know it will brighten her day and lift her
spirits to read what you have to say. If you have trouble commenting directly
on the blog, please feel free to email your message to me and I will post it
for you. My email is margaret.k.brown@gmail.com.
You're such a positive force of energy, and I always look forward to being welcome in your house every time I visit. You have always been so kind and attentive to all of Margaret's friends like me, and I really appreciate it. You've always been really sweet to me and I always knew I could depend on you guys if I were in a pickle, especially back when we were neighbors. I can't wait to see you again!!
ReplyDeleteOMG... where to begin? A trait I admire? Your self confidence! Your talent! Your smile!
ReplyDeleteA funny story? Has there ever been a time that we've been together that we haven't laughed hysterically? I can't think of anything in particular... there's so many times! We're so blessed to come from a family that cherishes the power of laughter.
A great experience? Something I have thought of many, many times in the past few months... when we were very young, maybe 9 and 10 years old, you came to stay with us out in Lebanon. We went for a long walk and ended up on a rock not far from my house. We sat there with our notebooks for an entire afternoon and wrote poetry. I remember then being in awe of how smart and how talented you were. I didn't know anyone like you. I was proud to be your cousin.
Another fun time was when I had graduated high school and went to stay with Grandma Meegan for the summer. You came and visited a few times and we went roller skating and out for ice cream with some of the Cavanna boys and their friends. We felt so grown up and worldly! It was all so innocent but we felt like hot stuff! Grandma loved hearing about it all. I know that in addition to making our own memories, we gave her some as well!
Colleen, I'm impressed by the love that surrounds you... literally, the whole world over! You and Steve have raised incredible children. I love you dearly. See you in September!
Colleen,
ReplyDeleteI have always absolutely loved your voice - I do not believe anyone has ever sung a more beautiful rendition of "There is Love" than you at my wedding. I think you were 16 or 17 at the time, in front of 125+ -you appeared less nervous than Billy who was accompanying you on guitar....it's one of my most favorite moments, looking over at you and hearing not only the beautiful voice but the beauty in the words. Quite simply, sweet cousin of mine, you have a way with a song - that touches the heart, gives me goosebumps and makes the hairs on my arms stand-up (tmi?).
Colleen,
ReplyDeleteMy drive home from the Junction on weekday evenings takes me down Fairview Ave (I confess I'm one of those short-cut takers you must have loathed) past your old house, and I always peer closely. You'll be happy to know the house is being well maintained. I have such fond memories of our book group gatherings there, especially when we sat out on your screened porch. Didn't we discuss Henry Roth's Call It Sleep on the porch? Believe it or not, book group is still going, although I must admit it is not quite the same as it was in the Colleen-Sarah-Melinda-Allison days. I don't think we ever fully recovered our momentum (and dare I say intellectual rigor) after we lost you to Belgium! I also fondly recall your annual Christmas party at the Fairview house.
I last saw you at the Yale Reunion (I was tagging along at Andrew's) just over a year ago. You were a picture of health and happiness - I found it hard to comprehend when you blogged about your diagnosis not too long after. I remember distinctly you describing how much you were enjoying the empty-nest phase of your life, which allowed certain activities which I won't elaborate on to be conducted with noisy abandon. With that comment, I knew things were truly going well for you and Steve!
I was back at Yale in May for my own 25th reunion and you were very much on my mind. In particular, I thought of you when I listened to Whim 'N Rhythm give a beautiful performance in Woolsey Hall. I knew how much you would have wanted to be there on stage with them.
Colleen, I am amazed at Margaret's postings, which demonstrate a maturity and strength that seem far beyond her years. You must be incredibly proud of her and Joseph and so satisfied in having raised two great kids. To me they are still little tikes of about 4 and 5 years old, when I first met them, and I can't wrap my head around the fact that they are adults.
I hope Margaret's inbox fills with funny stories and great memories, and that they bring you some chuckles and good cheer during this crummy time.
With love and boundless admiration,
Margi
So, here are some Colleen stories:
ReplyDeleteFirst off, she has the patience of a saint. I still hear her saying "Joseph, stand in the corner until I tell you to come out". No screaming, just a calm, steady, firm tone. Always admired her ability to stay calm no matter what the situation. (Joseph, hope I am not embarrassing you here. We are talking about when you were like 3 years old, getting into mischief like every 3 year old does).
She is not afraid of any home improvement project and seems, with Steve, to be able to fix anything. The house on Fairview Ave was completely transformed, with a lot of the sweat equity going to Colleen.
Lastly, she loves to entertain and make her home a warm place for friends. One of my fondest memories was half the neighborhood sitting in your home when we had a big storm with no electricity. Colleen got out the candles and found a way to make it a fun night. I think she turned it into a sing along :)
Love, Ronda
Ooo! oo! I wanna share too!
ReplyDeleteThat I have so many great memories with you floating through my head it's hard to choose is a story of its own. It is the story I am most grateful for.
But off the top of my head:
Making you coffee in the morning when I was barely tall enough to reach the counter. Calling you “poopie head” with daddy as you drove off to evening classes.
Seeing you park the car out front with a strange toffee-colored dog and a big grin on your face.
Watching you drop a penny into my jar for every mistake I made, just so my stubborn little perfectionist self would practice the piano.
Lying in my bed when we first moved to Belgium, feeling jet-lag for the first time, and slowly drifting off to sleep as your soft voice guided each body part to relax from my pinky toe to the tip of my forehead.
Eating the blackberry sauce that you made from the berries in our walled-in garden over vanilla ice cream and thinking that food couldn’t possibly get any better. Sitting around our enormous antique table to take our European friends’ Thanksgiving virginity. You teaching me how to order Vietnamese food in French “comme d’habitude”.
Singing to the giraffes in Africa and watching with amazement as they turned their heads and stared in curiosity. Eating fresh seafood salad at a little restaurant on the canal in Venice and loving how impressed you were that I liked octopus. Calling Daddy to tell him that because Ikea was closed, you are I were going to Germany for the day instead.
Sitting in bed in Bernardsville after crying about how much I hated my body and listing one by one all the things that were ok, that I liked, and eventually, that were awesome about Margaret.
Singing through an entire songbook as you accompanied me on the piano. Watching as you transformed our standard, suburban house into a beautiful and unique place to live.
Staying up way past our bedtime to do the New York Times crossword puzzle. Getting on a plane from London to Phoenix without telling you and knowing you would not only forgive me, but welcome me with a hug as you always have. Bursting out into laughter because I had almost used the toothbrush you had just used as a cleaning tool.
Loving you all day and every day of my entire life.
Dear Colleen,
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad that you and Steve came to visit us last summer to celebrate your 25th wedding anniversary. It was great to see you guys so relaxed and happy, fun to eat and laugh and talk together all weekend. I remember having a great time at what-used-to-be Feasts, compliments of Mary & Dennis, and going for a long hike in the woods around my house with you and Steve. You and I had some really good conversations about parenting that stuck with me. But what I was most touched by was that you decided to hang out with Delilah so the 2 of you could sing together. At the time, I was stumped: how to hang out with a 13-year-old; we'd done all we could do together. For you, singing songs with your first cousin, Delilah, was an opportunity to do something you both loved & get to know each other better. I think Steve & I went for another hike and you opted to sing with Delilah. I was grateful and amazed by how well your voices rang out together.
I also want to say that I have been so impressed with your blog, by the writing and the honesty. I am glad that Steve and Margaret are adding to it, and I especially like Margaret's idea of bringing in other voices with good stories about you. It would also be lovely to hear your voice: are there any youtubes or recordings of your singing that could be posted on FB?
Billy is talking with Dev right now. We are all connected with loving you. Emily
I don't have a specific story, but let me give one perspective. Colleen, I haven't seen you since the halcyon 1980s (Ah, the Reagan years! Or should that be "Eek!"?) but when I think back to our days at RHAM I often think of you. I admired you; not in the way that teenage boys "admire" teenage girls (well, that way, too) but for the way in which you seemed to stand above much of the standard adolescent nonsense. Teenagers can be conformists of the worst sort, but you seemed to have carved a path for your life independent of what was consider cool or popular or "savage" (Valdambrini's word of choice). When I think of you at RHAM I see someone who is an individual, standing in the hallway trading intelligent chat with friends - Chris Cheney or Sue Parker or Frank Wilkes - while I, the poster boy for awkward adolescence, watch from nearby. Where some of our peers grew up into people unrecognizable to their teenage selves, reading your blog has convinced me that you're still you. Perhaps my memories are growing a bit abstract with time, but reading your words online convince me they are not.
ReplyDeleteWhat a challenge. I am your mother asked to tell you my favorite moments. Impossible. So I'll start with the first I had with you and of you, the first wonderful moments. I was the first one to talk to you.
ReplyDeleteColleen, the notion of a Colleen, of you, came into my life around mid-March 1964. I was a junior in college, Dad, a senior. It was around that time that I started feeling lousy in the morning and thought for the first time I could be pregnant. What a scary time.
There I was. Early pregnant, already planning to marry Dennis in June, dreading to tell my parents, which Dad very bravely took care of. He wanted you too. My parents knew what it was like to have an unmarried, pregnant Meegan daughter already, Nancy. (And we all know how that 55 plus successful marriage has worked out!) When the sainted Mary, named after the Virgin, attended Catholic schools and spent all her time making novenas, met the same condition, how could my parents face the neighbors? How could it happen twice in the same family?
But scared as I was, deep inside I was happy. I had fallen in love with Dad in mid-March the year before, loved him so deeply, knew I was going to marry him. There was a part of me that wanted to avoid a big June wedding, and there you were! A great excuse!
That's when I started talking to you. I didn't have a belly yet, was still challenged holding down my breakfast in class, but I talked to you. I talked to friends about you, how you'd already developed a heart and limbs, following the stages of your growth inside me. I was on a cloud, though a queasy one. And there was no question, that if you were a girl, you would be Colleen.
I loved talking to you as you grew bigger and bigger in my belly. We went to class together, you came with me to the intense French summer classes I had to take in order to graduate the following June. (Must be why you are so proficient in French.) You sat with me while I took the final for the six week course in English history, squashed up against those infamous college desks, but we did it. We completed the final and two days later, on Saturday, November 7, 1964 we parted uterine company. You were born. I had my Colleen. We've been talking ever since.
I wanted to share something with you that many clients do and it is a massive way to lift spirits.
ReplyDeleteIt's called the chocolate box, so here's what you do
1. Treat yourself, Steve, Devra, Colin and whoever else is there to the most beautifully packaged box of chocolate
2. Take all the chocolate out and eat if you want to or not.. Lol x
3. Print all the messages, emails, testimonials your mum gets and store them in this beautiful chocolate box..I am sure you can find some great messages old cards you and Joseph gave her as kids. I am sure we will keep adding to it as well.
4. Read here the wonderful things that people have written about her to her every day.
5. It's so uplifting
PS make one for each of you as well, you need it as much as Colleen does. It's about filling up your bucket to have the courage for another day as well.
We all have times we need a lift.
Heres my addition for today.
Colleen a love the way you articulate what is going on in your mind, and challenge the status quo to make the world a better place. I felt so enriched after our calls and incredibly stimulated by your thought process.
I love your phenomenal capacity to see others "greatness" and help them to see it too. It's time to see your own greatness.
I love your laugh it fills me with joy.
Love Gael xoxxo
Margaret this is weird and not uncommon for me not to have met your mum in person as many of my clients are referred to me and don't live close, yet I feel we have shared so much. I am very grateful your mum is in my life.
Colleen, I have known you since freshman year at Yale. My memories come back as a catalog of your multiple talents. Your vocal gift landed you a starring role in a musical performed at Pierson College. I cannot remember the play, but I remember getting goosebumps thinking this was how Jenny Lind (the "Swedish Nightingale") must have sounded. Your writing genius landed you in hot water, when your English essay was so good that your professor refused to believe it was written by a freshman (you prevailed). Your business aptitude landed Whim n Rhythm quite a few concert gigs during Spring Break of senior year. And now, as a blogger par excellence, you land in my Inbox nearly every day with a new installment of your courageous battle. My whole family (and my running buddy) now clamor for News About Colleen. In this way, your talents have touched people whom you've never met, in addition to those who know and love you. Margaret and Steve, thank you for doing some of the driving on this Adventure. You also have great admirers out here in the blogosphere. XOXO Meredith
ReplyDeleteColleen,
ReplyDeleteI am blessed to have you as Steve’s wife. As my Mother said often, “Steve, how did you ever catch Colleen? She is such a wonderful person.”
Going on trips with you and other family members, hearing you light up wherever you were with a song, rearranging pictures and furniture in your beautiful homes in East Haven. West Windsor, Brussels, Pennington, Bernardsville and Annandale, watching you and Steve prepare fantastic meals from Thanksgiving feasts to birthday brunches…these are a few fantastic memories.
Thanks for raising with Steve two fantastic, smart, caring, fun loving children, Joseph and Margaret.
Love and Hugs, Leanna
I always remember the great times we had in Munich. One of the best was the stroll through the English Garden. It was a very hot summer day and all us were looking for a place to cool off. So we just went were most of the tourists go to take a photo. To the small river called Eisbach with a rather strong current right in the middle of the parc where you can swim and sunbath naked. Not the usual thing for you to do but here we were. Not naked but taking a swim in the cold refreshing water taking great care no naked would get too close.
ReplyDeleteOr our visit to the zoo in winter when it was freezing. There we came to watch the bison and the otter play catch me if you can. It was so funny to see the two animals one on land and the other in the water alternately teasing each other to continue.
And as with every time we met I learned a new word. This time it was hibernating. One of the early words was "bib" and pacifier. But that has been some time before as you can guess.
Meeting in Brussels for Thanksgiving when we all prepared the traditional meal and the turkey almost too big for the oven. What a great dinner. By the way the visits to Brussels actually were the times for French words. Especially when you took me with you to join your cooking class.
And I still smile when I think of sitting in your apartment together with you, Holly, Jessica, Maggie and Joseph philosophizing about the similarity of dogs and their owners ;-)
Thank your for being the friend you are.
a big hug
Kathrin
Colleen,
ReplyDeleteMy memories of you from our teenage years are filled with joy, happiness and laughter.
You helped teach me how to love and forgive. You challenged me to think.
You questioned injustice and charged ahead with a searing passion, yet sometimes danced
upon complicated issues so delicately.
What a wonder to behold!
The day we went cross-country skiing: so crisp and clear - the trees beautiful in their winter
slumber - as I wobbled and buckled and you laughed - your breath floating magically into
the afternoon air.
Later, we ate hot soup (Chicken 'n Stars!) and giggled about my complete lack of coordination
on skis and how I'd gotten anxious when we started going more than 5 miles per hour on
a slight downhill!
As the sun called it a day, I remember thinking how that afternoon was perfect.
It's amazing how the simple things can be so incredible.
I am so glad to have traveled some of my life with you.
Love,
Frank Wilkes
Colleen,
ReplyDeleteWhere do I begin? I was 7 years old when we moved from East Hartford to Andover. I knew nothing of the country and was in awe of the endless woods that were soon to be our playground. I was going into 2nd grade and you were in 3rd. We found each other, like neighborhood kids do and were soon inseparable. You filled my summers and weekends with imagination, wonder and a thirst for knowledge. Your childhood home a refuge for me. I have so many found memories, from making you play "Free to Be You and Me", over and over again, to all the plays we used to make your parents watch, to our contribution to the Jerry Lewis telethon in your front yard, to endless and endless days disappearing in the woods with nothing but our imaginations. I have no idea how we found our way out of those woods, but we always seemed to find our way, just in time for dinner. I remember sleeping over and playing restaurant/waitresses for you poor parents. Ahh, they never complained at I'm sure our poor cooking skills. I remember going to my first movie with you and your family, it was Superman, and at the time, I felt like I was supergirl. I could talk to you about anything. I remember you wanting to go to the Opera and upset because your mother had told you that you needed to be a little bit older to go. Our conversations ranged from song lyrics to laying on the grass and looking up at the clouds and making up silly stories about them. As we grew older into our middle school and high school years, our paths started to take a slightly different path, but you were always there if I needed someone to talk to. I always admired your wonderful voice and was in awe of you singing, "You light up My Life" in high school. I remember going to all the plays you were in and thinking how talented you were and that you were destined for something special and I was right. You graduated from high school and headed off to follow your dreams. You met Steve and had two of the most wonderful children who turned into mature, cultured, caring individuals. I can only imagine how proud you are of them!
Colleen, you are such a caring, brave, selfless person! You have touched so many peoples lives in so many ways. Without you, I have no idea how my life would have turned out. You have inspired me, prompted me when I needed promting and always been there for me.
I am so proud to call you my life long friend and I love you!
Denise Bouffard
Good evening. we have tornadoe warnings in my town.
ReplyDeleteI have always enjoyed a good rain storm, especially for the farmers. Before the rain started I put a nice bucket outside my door.
I know Colleen from my cousin Mary Keenan. Mary's mother and my father were brother and sister. Helen Glynn and Francis Glynn the youngest of the gang.
I would always want to skip and run down to my Grandmother Glynn's house because i knew that cousin Mary and a sister or two would be visiting. Cousin Mary was one of my supports when I moved over 20 times with my husbands career.
Happy to say he has retired this year. Now we live permanently in Bluffton and I hope you come and visit me. Everybody moves slow here, they talk slow and drive slow.
This is really good for me, because I was always in a race.
I attended a lovely family reunion in Connecticute when Mary and Dennis had their lovely home and great yard. My girls were so small. Like 1/12 and 4. Colleen's eyes always have a sparkle. Colleen's eyes are peaceful. Colleen's eyes can tell a story.
The lightning is too close and I must take cover. will finish later. many blessings.
Dear Margaret, Your mom was a teenager when I brought my girls to the reunion with my brother, his wife, and my family. Your mother was kind to the younger children, but it was her eyes that I enjoyed so much.
You see those eyes, took her through her university, most likely attracted your dad to her, those eyes are so peaceful. Your mom was a teenager then, and a fine young teenager. (Most teenagers are not so interested in little folks, but not your mom.
Love, Cousin Maureen
Okay, I've got a throw-up story. This seems apt, since Colleen you have spent so much time feeling like throwing up. I don't know if I can make you laugh right now, but I'm going to try. Since pregnancy threw my digestive system into major turmoil for all 9 months with each of my 3 pregnancies, I can really talk about throw-up and nausea, sort of akin to the way Eskimos use 10 different words for snow, each with a subtly different nuance. (I used Zofran, by the way, a WONDER drug. On it, I threw up only about once a day.) So one morning during my first pregnancy (before Zofran), I awoke to the sound of heaving in the corner of the room. It was our dog, Sheba. I instinctively jumped for the trash can and shoved it towards her snout only to realize that if I used the can for Sheba, I couldn't use it for myself. There was a moment of indecision -- could I hold it long enough for Sheba to be done before I threw up? But while I was considering the timing and Sheba continued to dry heave, I let loose all over the floor. Oh, God, what a mess.
ReplyDeleteI apologize for having a thoroughly earthy sense of humor...Colleen, you have one of the most terrific senses of humor I know (much more sophisticated than mine), and even better, an ability to laugh at yourself. I absolutely love that about you, as well as many other qualities.
Much love to all of you.
Lauren
I have to say what my favorite thing about Coleen is probably what most people say.... The way her eyes light up when she smiles, her amazing energy and unflappable spirit. All that and the way she can whip out a lipstick and confidently put it on without a mirror! A talent that separates great women from the truly great women. Our love to you and all your family. We are sending all the positive energy we can muster your way.
ReplyDeleteMichelle and Christine
Colleen,
ReplyDeleteOne of my favorite recollections was your wedding shower on Bunker Hill Road! there was a small group of family and friends that gathered to fete you. Your family gave you beautiful slinky and silky things appropriate for a wedding shower. Well, your mom's crazy friend stopped at a tag sale and appropriated a dollar each for she and her daughter to find the most outrageous things known to man to give to you! You were a good sport as you opened the gifts and we all had a laugh.
Buckets of love, Kay
I loved Colleen the first time I met and worked with her at the pilates studio. I admired her so as a wonderful woman, mom and special pilates client. I enjoyed getting to know Colleen and 'her body' and taking her on unique journeys specific only to her. And there were no better duo than you and she during our semi classes...what a joy you both were!
ReplyDeleteI am always sending sunshine and blue skies to Colleen as she looks to turn each and every challenge into an opportunity...she inspires me so. Keep believing...it is powerful and healing.
xoxo Janine
One of the great things we, as a family, have experienced lately is getting to know Colleen and Steve and you and Joe better. Having some of you with us three different times was wonderful. Colleen is someone we feel we know pretty well from reading all her blogs, and Steve we have known off and on for a long time. But seeing you and Joe in person, knowing so little about you, has been really rewarding. I'm so glad you have been able to be part of our family celebrations. We are thinking of you often and sending positive energy your way.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Margaret (the other one)
I still see, as clear as day, the photograph of her in her ballerina tutu; she was about three years old. Grammy Keenan had that photo hanging on her wall for years and years.
ReplyDeleteTry to remember some of the unique comments that Kathy has come out with through the years:
"My niethz Caleeeen is bootaful."
"Chudy, you are ugcalee, and I mean ugcalee!
"Mommy Gorgeous, can I have a penisbutter sanwith?"
Referring to Gene's failure to serve dessert one evening: "Cheenie is tedable; she did not gif me any desthurt; wules are wules!! (This comment was followed by angry tears.)
Grammy Keenan reprimanded Kathy for calling her Gorgeous in public instead of Mommy: "Kathy, I don't want you to call me Gorgeous in front of people; it's embarressing!" OK Gorguss, I wunt call you Gorguss anymore, Gorguss".
Judy telling Kathy that Kathy is a wonderful person: "I do not wanna hear that cwrap!"
Kathy referring to "Poppy," Joe Keenan. "I luv you Choey, Choey, Baldy, Baldy."
And one remark from Devra, not Kathy. Devra was about four or five years old when she came to Grammy's for Easter dinner. I opened the door to see the Dennis and Mary Keenan family. Little Devra was all dressed up in a blue coat, white MaryJane shoes and a yellow bonnet; she looked like an angel. That image faded quickly when she stepped into the house with the brazen greeting, "Happy Easter, how's your keester?"
Margaret, please give your Mom a big hug from me, and take one for yourself. My regards to your Dad.
Love, Aunty Judy
I've decided to re do my post, and call this "A Few Musical Accolades" I teach the Cabaret Class (along with Maria) at Mayo Center where Colleen has performed in every show since we started 3 years ago. I love playing piano for Colleen, who is always full of ideas, and game to at least try any of the songs I pick out for her. Once Colleen brought in Margaret to perform a duet with her.
ReplyDeleteColleen made Margaret a great harmonizer! I always know I can give her the tough inner harmony in our arrangements.
Colleen-Maria and I gave a piece to our NYC group, but we didnt have a ringer who could take the tough part. That song was a short piece called Kaleidoscope Heart by Sara Barellis, which I think you would like. Do you know if you recorded any of your parodies? Always audience favorites! and you always had a nice group of family, friends and clients to come see you.
I dont know that anyone has pulled off singing a Linda Ronstadt rock tune, a legit soprano piece and a disco medley in the same show. Thats a feat that Colleen handled with ease!
Darius
Well Colleen...do I dare share our fun streaking story!!! What influences we were on each other in High School! I remember how much you taught me then about how I could broaden my horizons and not to be afraid to try! I was afraid to think that I was smart enough..good enough and you said "yes you can ". That all sounds so serious like we sat around and drank tea while we discussed the world's woes.....now we did talk world crisis ( can't tell how many discussions I had about the death penalty) but never by sitting around drinking tea with you!
ReplyDeleteOne of the best things I remember and wish I could see today was when I made you laugh ( not a hard feat my happy friend) you would take both hands and put them over your nose and mouth as if you had found a secret treat that no one else had.....that what I said was that special and personal to you! I know that we have many more memories too...Florida, rham, wedding, streaking, drive ins, playing piano at your house, singing in chorus, and more to make!!!!
Though I havent known Mrs. Keenan for as long as most of the people who posted on here have, i still have great memories of her and the house in Bernardsville. Some of my fondest memories from high school were in that house and with Margaret's family and i considered, and still consider it, a second home. You were always so welcoming and never minded if Margaret's friends strolled in unannounced or ate the abundant sweets in your pantry. Whenever i was there the comforting sound of you singing and playing the piano could always be heard. I will never forget the dinner time conversations that we had with your family and Margaret's friends though, admittedly, i always felt that my intelligence and insight on the topic being discussed never came close to yours or Mr. Brown's. That is something i think i admire the most about you, your intelligence. Whether it be your musical intelligence, lingual, logical or just insight about life itself, i felt as though you were knowledgeable about so many things and that gave you a certain strength, in my eyes, that i greatly admired. Not necessarily a physical strength, but a mental and emotional strength that i strive to one day posses. When i found out about this from Margaret, i couldn't believe it. It's hard for me, i suppose as a naive young adult, to imagine someone with such strength going through something like this. I guess i always had the false notion that this doesn't, or shouldn't, happen to people with such strength and so much to offer. However, this post is not about that. It is to thank you for the strong person that you are, thank you for the warm and comforting home that i considered my second home and the people in it that i consider my second family, and thank you for an amazing daughter and friend, Margaret, who has undoubtedly inherited your strength, intelligence and kindness which has been so evident in the past year and something that i will always admire as well.
ReplyDeleteMadalyn
Hello Margaret,
ReplyDeleteAm a French colleagues!
I met your mother for the first time at last Vegas on June 2009 for the first training with ActionCoach,
She is a great professional and she was a very good translator,
She shared her talent between the translation and the business coach training,
It was great! Top level!
She speaks very well French ,
We planned together a common meeting with French customers in France,
We tried few times to schedule it
I keep in my mind such a opportunity!
I still hope to organize!
I think very often to her!
My friendly regards
Jean Benoit
I know Colleen from the business world. We share membership in the Somerset County Business Partnership and I've seen her give several excellent presentations to the group.
ReplyDeleteI'd like to thank Colleen for accepting my invitation to join our local United Way's Leadership Giving Council Circle which launched in 2010. I invited Colleen to my home to learn more about what we were doing to help women get ahead in our community. We are helping the ALICEs in Somerset County: Asset Limited Income Constrained and Employed, I'm so grateful she resonated with our effort and became one of our Founding Members! Because of her commitment and the commitment of other local women, we have made great strides.
Hi Keenan/Browns,
ReplyDeleteSharon Portnoy here from your mom's Whim n Rhythm days... I am sure Colleen would not remember this, but for some reason it's a conversation I continue to chuckle about it to this day. Not long after we graduated from college, Colleen & I got together in NYC for lunch or dinner and we were having this discussion about being "recovering Yalies." Not sure if that's the phrase we used but we were basically talking about how refreshing it was to be in the working world with "normal" people & being out of an environment where we felt this constant pressure to excel and to take everything (including ourselves) so darn seriously. And your mom used as an example the fact that she had polished her nails and that she had enjoyed it because it felt so frivolous and feminine and it was something she would have never treated herself to at Yale. And I just remember her proclaiming, "you know, if I want a manicure I'm getting a manicure, dammit!" And then we burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all---a very funny post-Yale proclamation of liberation from heightened expectations & having to be so serious & exceptional all the time. So whenever I get a manicure (which is still not that often) I always think to myself, in Colleen's fierce and spirited voice, "If I want a manicure, I'm getting a manicure, dammit!" (I realize this story probably didn't translate or make much sense at all. It may ultimately be one of those "you had to be there moments...)
Ok, enough of my ramblings. Per Margaret's request, words of encouragement will go unspoken (but not unthought). Words of love, I imagine are still allowed? I love you, Colleen, and am so relieved to hear you're more comfortable now. I imagine you spend a lot of time kvelling (you're from Jersey, I assume I can lapse into Yiddush, right?) over your daughter. From her blog postings she seems to share many of your wonderful qualiities, most strikingly that fierceness, plus a wisdom, clarity & maturity beyond her years. xox Sharon
Dear Ms. Keenan,
ReplyDeleteI look up to you as not only a mentor, but also as a mother. I love whenever you and Mr. Brown would call me you’re second daughter. Towards the end of high school I eventually ended up never leaving your house because I felt so welcomed. If it weren’t for you, Ms. Keenan, I probably wouldn’t be studying at my dream school right now. I remember senior year when Margaret and I would stay up late racing against time to finish our college applications. We would both write a million college essays at once and throw them your way to revise. Every single time you would put down whatever you were doing and with your super human reading speed and amazing revising skills return the essays within minutes. Actually now that I think about it, I probably wouldn’t have made the college application deadline at all if it weren’t for you. I can’t thank you and Mr. Brown enough for taking me to Washington DC with Margaret to visit colleges, that was a great getaway weekend and I enjoyed every second of it.
I loved when you invited me to your family’s Thanksgiving and Christmas feasts. What I enjoy even more than the feasts itself was helping you and the rest of the family prep them the day before. That’s when I knew I was part of the family because you weren’t afraid to ask me to help with anything. During Christmas Eve I remember you were always the one to get the party started by being the first to play the piano and start the caroling. Your natural sense of leadership and perfection shined through in every thing you did, whether it was hosting a spa party, singing in a cabaret group (your version of desperado will always be my favorite) or being a fantastic mother who would offer better advice than anyone. I always admire your intellect and ability to be GREAT at everything: singing, drawing, storytelling (you would tell the best and funniest stories), cooking, speaking French, and the list goes on. What I admire more than anything is your ability to stay positive, especially through this past year. If I could be half the women you are when I grow older I would live very very happily. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me and really making feel like a second daughter, especially at times when I really needed the support and guidance of a mother.
Love your adopted Asian daughter,
Judy
PS this was harder to write than my college application essays, probably because I didn’t have you here to help me through it.
Our high school 'most likely to succeed' is simply a source of constant inspiration. With family and friends like the ones chiming in here, it is so clear that succeed Colleen does. I have loved watching and knowing you make all the right moves with gusto and passion; from work to family; travel, music, I have loved hearing about it all. I have notes from High School. I remember awesome Christmas parties. Loved reading your emails from the adventures while you were in Europe. Always totally inspired by how you have raised your amazing kids and now so glad I have have met them as adults. My memories and a common thread throughout our friendship is the simple joy of singing that we have shared together and apart. I remember sleepovers at your house ending up around the piano. Two daughters of this aged stream are we! I look forward to more harmony in our future. You are beautiful, funny, wise and wonderful and I am lucky to know you.
ReplyDeletePS I write this from our annual family Cape Cod week. Your mom showed me pictures of your family beach vacation from last year. I am inspired to add FOOT RUBS to our routine.
To Margaret – I love this assignment. To colleen – here are my thoughts…
ReplyDeleteI was away this weekend and therefore had a lot of time on the car ride home to mull this over. I of course started by trying to remember the “best of” list of anecdotes, jokes, quips, etc. from the last 45 years. Granted, there has been an intermittent quality to those 45 years, but it’s still a lot of years and I soon decided that there were way too many, that you usually remembered them better than I do anyway, and so I moved on to a new approach. This approach was to think about the lifetime of experiences and see if I could distill them into a few themes. This ended up being easy. There were two: laughing and singing.
I liked that idea, and with plenty more time in the car, I kept thinking about it. Then I had a funny thought, that I knew you would appreciate. I had the idea that the two things, laughing and singing, are not that different. They both require you to open your mouth pretty wide. They both necessitate the emission of fairly loud sounds from your head (neither of which is a big and/or loud mouth crack…). This made me giggle. I thought it would make you giggle too. But the more I thought about it, the more interesting the idea became. I thought to myself, well…actually, singing and laughing really are very similar activities. And no wonder they are the threads that run through Colleen’s life! Song and laughter (when executed properly!) are both profound (if small) acts of generosity, fearlessness, honesty, love. They are acts of communion, intimacy, and soul-bearing. Most of all, they are acts of pure joy! I loved the idea that whether singing from the diaphragm, or belly-laughing, song and laughter are literally pure, visceral joy – and this is even true or maybe especially true when the joy has come from a place of pain or sorrow or difficulty.
My favorite all-time Colleen quip came when you were a new mother. I remember talking to you on the phone when Joseph was little. You were expressing the frustrations of early parenthood and I think feeling a little thrown that it actually was challenging for you. Near the end of our conversation, you said, Honestly, Kris, I don’t know how stupid people do it! It was so honest, so real, so hilarious! I have laughed about it many times in the course of rearing my own kids, and still laugh occasionally about it, just because it’s really funny.
So anyone who has been surprised by your incredible ability to transform this current shit show into many small moments of joy over the last several months – haven’t realized, like I hadn’t, that this is simply the way you have ALWAYS operated! So, not surprisingly, that willingness, that desire to open wide and make a lot of noise are simply expressions of the essential Colleen and the things I love most about you! Candor, fearlessness, generosity, connection, and JOYFULNESS!
Hilarious---I don't know how stupid people do it--so spot on!!!
DeleteBrenda B
Ok, so with a post that long, you wouldnt think i'd have forgotten anything. but, i did. I love you. And despite some creative differences - think first opera, working title "You Flirt", circa 1972 - I always have. hahaha. don't worry i'm mostly over it. :)
ReplyDeleteI moved from florida when i was 5, so most of my memories of that time and those people are almost like vapor. I always think of the house in Andover as a castle on the hill, complete with goats, chickens, stables and horses. All my memories of there are of times spent outside with colin playing catch or exploring the stables across the street. it always seemed like such a different world, Aunt Mary would have some sort of weird "adult" music on, classical or show tunes. Devra always had a smile and was usually giggling, there was just something a little different about being there.
ReplyDeleteThen IT happened, it was very early in the morning, it must have been late in the summer because the whole house was quiet and all were in bed. dawn had broken but no one had stirred, all of a sudden the fire alarm at the top of the stairs went off and woke the house. I went out into the hall and there stood Colleen, Devra, and Colin bare-assed naked! ugh! WTF? Oh god, thats not all, looking down the stairs was Uncle Dennis......well never mind im sure you know. There i was in my Bugs Bunny PJ's with the feet on them standing in the middle of a bunch of naked Keenans, Picture it.
Sleeping in the nude? how european!
Oh it was a false alarm by the way.
So everyone went back to bed, I'm not sure if anyone slept, i sure didn't. I should remind you that i was barely 5 at this time.
I went down stairs and searched the 3 channels on the television and finally settled on The Brady Bunch. Colleen was the next one in the house to stir, you joined me and we talked about how un realistic the show was. I can still even hear your voice that no family could be that happy. Whenever i think of you i think of that morning first.
As i write this its dawning on me that you may have been the first nude female i saw. Im sure the fact that im gay has nothing to do with that. Now seeing Uncle Dennis...that may be another story. Just kidding.
ReplyDeleteI also remember a time when i was with Aunt Mary in the kitchen and You and Steve came home from some where. We watched as the two of you sat in the car and sang a song into a little tape recorder. As you sang the two of you gazed in each others eyes, i remember that as one of the first times i saw such an expression of love outside my own home. A few minutes after you came in you played the song for your mother, I remember how much she loved it. It was such a beautiful and thoughtful gift.
Lastly, When Jeff and I were considering Jillian and Ed's wedding and whether i would go alone or if he would be able to join me. I remember telling him what a special time it was going to be. When this family gets together its just magic. It happens so rarely we decided it was important for him to be there. Of course The talent just spilled over, My brother Roger, Billy and Jason, all with the Guitar, My sister Cyndi and I adding some comic relief, My sister Cyndi, Lynn, Nancy and Katie providing comic relief, My sister Cyndi and anyone else providing comic relief...see a pattern here. I think about sitting in Lynns living room and how many of us there were and how we all seemed to fit in that room like a puzzle. No matter how far we were apart and how much much time divided us, we were family.
Over the years the soundtrack to our family has been built on by so many, Roger and his kids keep it alive down here, I know theres a lot of guitar playing going on up there. For me the foundation has always laid with you and our Uncle Billy. When the Meegans get together everyone as their favorite song for the two of you to sing.
The most profound moment i remember having with you was in that living room in Colchester. What song are we going to sing? Someone suggested "You are my Sunshine" and you looked me right in the eye and sang a verse with me. Thank you for doing that.
Colleen, you are the embodiment of all the talents that this family has. I have always been in absolute awe of the things you've accomplished. Thank you for all the times you shared your life with us through your writings from Europe, and this crazy adventure. Remarkably, from a distance your life has always seemed pretty Brady Bunch-ish to me.
looking forward to reading more, I think Maggie had a great idea asking for these stories. You have been so loved, so respected and so inspiring to me,
Love and Prayers
Mike Ierardi
My favorite times with my cousin Colleen are the many one on one conversations we've shared over the years. We've talked about kids, work, marriage, family, the world and, of course, the Meegans. Without fail each conversation has been both thought provoking and very funny. Colleen has an incredible wit. I remember walking around her gardens in the first home in Princeton and then later in the backyard of the brownstone in Brussels sharing a cup of coffee or a glass of wine and just talking. So much common ground.
ReplyDeleteOther runner ups that came to mind for the good times list:
The wonderful speech you gave about your mom. I found myself nodding in agreement the whole time.
Reading the blog from Brussels about the experience you had registering your car, frustrating, funny and in the end successful.
Seeing you in My Fair Lady at Yale and being so amazed at your talent and beauty
And way up there on the list is the decision not to live in the comfort of the U.S. ExPat community in Brussels but instead in a brownstone in the heart of the city and immerse yourself and your family in the experience. A choice I've always admired.
And last but not least - dancing like fools at all the family weddings. Love Lynn
I often find myself remembering 8th grade Bioecology. We sat together and of course Colleen was sooooooo smart! One quiz or test we had I studied my butt off for, and received a slightly higher grade than Colleen. It made me feel so proud because I knew how much "smarter" she was than I. Even at that tender age she had the grace and kindness to be happy for me. She was born to be a life coach and was doing it even then!! I have taken that memory with me and tried to be as wonderful as you. Funny how something seemingly insignificant from the 8th grade turns out to be a life lesson in genuine happiness for others. Thank you dear Colleen, you are amazing!
ReplyDeleteOne of my stand out memories of Colleen was our high school UConn cooperative biology class--we all had to chose our own experiment...me being on the cutting edge (sarcasm) decided to grow cucumbers using hydroponics. Colleen was doing something with a bovine spleen and if I recall correctly a centrifuge---have no clue what she did or what she was trying to accomplish---all I know is it certainly was most impressive and more impressive that she used the word "bovine" instead of plain old "cow"---hee hee!!! still makes me laugh to this day.....gotta love RHAM!!!
ReplyDeleteI don’t think we ever met Margaret, but I’m the master franchisee/area developer for ActionCOACH. I’ve known your mom since she started with Action. In fact I was one of her trainers in Las Vegas! And then about 3 years ago took over the NJ territory and got to work more closely with her. I’m SO glad you posted your email address. For some reason every time I try to reply to the posts on the blog it never goes through. I’ve tried 3 or 4 times and have acquiesced to usually sending your mom a handwritten note or emailing her.
ReplyDeleteI guess I will share two things with you that you can feel free to ‘post’ or just share with your mom. First I think your mom has always had other people ‘first’ or top of mind. She was kind of the ‘ring leader’ for many of the NJ coach’s events and initiatives for example. It was great to hear how she continues to care for her clients and in return gets great energy and motivation from it as well. Maybe we should try to find her MORE clients? HA HA… But that’s what I remember about her – an “other’s first” attitude or style.
The second time I remember has been since she was diagnosed. I am a religious or spiritual person with a very close and deep relationship with God. She was very open to and gracious about preparing lunch for me at your home one day while she was starting chemo, just spending some time together, and in the end allowing me to pray with her. It was a special couple of hours together for me that I will always remember.
Hi Colleen!
ReplyDeleteI have been keeping up with you and your journey and can only say that the woman I first met when we moved to New Jersey is the same one I see reflected in these blog posts. I met you when our girls were such little ones and you and Steve welcomed us into your world with open arms. I can still see the first day, Steve and Joseph were in the field across from the house running like there was no tomorrow and you came out to meet us with the biggest smile and I felt then that our new house would indeed be a home.
a few of the things that make me laugh when I think of those halcyon days:
Kate and Margaret holding us hostage in the basement with their rendition of Oliver
mud swings and the pure happiness on their faces at how dirty they were
Margaret and Kate "giving birth" on the side porch
Kate and Joseph....enough said
a few things that make me thankful for you:
Halloween the year Olivia had surgery
the year you didn't work and we had so much fun just being with the kids and each other
your joy in every moment
your hospitality
the music that is inside of you
Margaret
I miss you dear friend and can't wait to see you.
Miss Keenan,
ReplyDeleteAlthough I haven't known you for as long as some of the other people posting on here, like Madalyn, some of my fondest memories from high school are of your house and family. You have always been so generous and kind to all of Margaret and Joe's friends. Even before I had formally met you and Mr.B, Margaret offered me a place to stay when things were tough at my house. There were many times when I felt more welcome in your home then I did my own, which is something I can never thank you and Mr B enough for.
When i think about your house on Mullens, I can always hear the sound of your singing or playing the piano in the back of my head, your energy is always so infectious and spirited.
Family dinners at your house were also some of my favorite times, even when I felt somewhat shy joining in the more intellectual conversations at the table, I was always in awe of your intelligence. I also remember when you and Margaret were doing the atkins diet, and us joking around about the crazy "cauliflower/cream cheese" mashed potatoes at the table haha. Or the time when you had the spa party and we all wore bags on our feet and put funny face masks on :). I'm grateful to have met you and your family, and so thankful to you for all the good memories, and for welcoming me into your home.
Hope to see you soon,
Love
Candace
Colleen, I remember you from Growing up in the little town of Andover. Even though we did not know one another very well then, I have been following your blog on FB. It is amazing to see all the love and support that so many who are close to you are sending! I want you to know that I pray for your comfort and pray for you and your family to keep the strength and courage to deal with all that has been handed to you all. From reading all the lovely comments it is clear that you have touched so many lives with your strength and beautiful sole I happy to see such wonderful love surrounding you. God bless you and i will continue to pray and think of you...Love Janet (Smith)
ReplyDeleteNo one tells a story better than you, Colleen, so there's a certain aura of "how dare I" here, since you've told this story to great effect many times. Anyhow, here's my artless reconstruction of it. You can correct me.
ReplyDeleteThe story begins with a certain singing group arriving in the fine town of Adelaide, Australia. Once there, we had been instructed to take a bus (Bus No. What the Hell? Bus No. Way. Out? Bus No. Fuggedaboutit?) more or less to the end of its sketchy route, whereupon we would be met by the head of the local choral society, who was arranging housing for the lot of us with its various members. All fine, all good, we're among fellow songsters! On the bus we go! And go! And go...the neighborhoods getting worse, the car repair shops proliferating, now it's used tires and "warehouses" and still we go...and then we get off, on a sort of barren industrial corner where we could easily never be heard from again. And to perfect the scenery, there's some homeless guy approaching us. We're sitting ducks. He's mumbling and getting closer and there's really nowhere to turn because we're the only people around but we can't leave because we're supposed to meet the choral society leader and we'll just have to ignore the homeless guy as best we can, even though there's no one else around, did I mention?, and he's mumbling pretty insistently, he's mumbling....oh, wait! He's actually mumbling, "Are you the Yale singing group?" He's the choral society leader! Our mistake! Hooray! Or, Sort Of Hooray, since it appears the leader of the choral society is a homeless man.
We should be so lucky. He's not homeless. He's actually going to take some of us to his home with him, others to be provided for in what turn out to be much better digs. At this point memory dims. Who designated you, me and Janice to go with the homeless guy? Was it you, Colleen? Could you have been so heartless? I think that's how you tell the story, but you may be covering for the nefarious Janice. I wouldn't put it past her. I never trusted that generous soul. Under all that floppy hair, a diabolical bent, for sure.
Anyhow, off we go with Homeless Choral Man to his abode.
ReplyDeleteWhich turns out to be a cross between the set of Sanford & Son and a group living house for recovering hippies. The "living" room, where two of us are to sleep on a fold-out sofa, has a big pane glass window. The pane is broken, probably from looking inward upon all those engine parts--nay, verily, entire engines!--and the shelves of coffee cans with old screws and wing nuts in them and the piles of mystery tools coated with grease from their unfathomable functions and a thick layer of ancient oil over all, including the sofa. It's like the Elizabeth Bishop poem, Filling Station, (why, oh, why, the doily?) only much, much worse because we cannot leave and the scene is not imaginary. Plus it's cold with the broken window. We brush our teeth in a bathroom that makes Alcatraz look plush. None of us dare shower. I believe the third of us who was offered part of a bed in the even danker inner sanctum of bedrooms must have declined, because all three of us ended up aligned on that pull-out sofa, rigid with dismay and already slightly oily. We had a concert the next day, and I remember how gingerly I laid out my black suit, trying to strike a balance between wrinkles and grease.
"This is not right," one of us said.
"We cannot stay here," another agreed.
"This is F%@&ing absurd." I probably said that.
In the darkness, a darkness the color of--need I say?--DW-40, we decided that we needed to confront the Homeless Choral Man and insist on more livable accommodations. But who will do it?
"I will F%@&ing do it. This is F%@&ing absurd." I probably said that.
Dawn broke over the broken window and three recent Yale grads shivering under their grayish, once-white sheet, having slept very little. Dawn settled on the broken airplane engines, the broken car engines, the discarded carburetors and extraneous tailpipes, the exploratory mining equipment, rising majestically like the gold pipes of an 18th century organ...dawn settled, then our little Whim alarm clocks went "peep peep" and at last Homeless Choral Man emerged from the inner sanctum.
"We can't stay here," we said. "It's just too filthy," or something like that.
"You bourgeois pigs," he said, or something like that. "You bourgeois Yale pigs and your fine linens."
Curses! He's hit us at our most vulnerable point: shame at having gone to a really good school among ridiculously privileged people.
"Oh, please. You can live any way you want, but you shouldn't invite people to stay here without first having them sign a consent form," we said. Okay, we didn't say exactly that, but we communicated the point that our over-privileged status was still no excuse for the condition of his pull-out sofa. The next night, we relocated to Lassa Skinner's uncle's house. We laid out our black suits and slept like gods, or at least, like bourgeois pigs.
Julie Sheehan