DEBRA A. BEAUDREAU

Deb was our older sister, and she’d hate for me to say that. Her little nose would crinkle and then she’d give me a shot in the arm, look at me and say “and don’t you forget it!”

She lived in New York since she was 18. New York was in her soul, every day since. Not the touristy kind of New York, nope, a real New Yorker. “Whatever you do…just don’t look up at all the buildings! Stupid tourists do that!”

She wrote three books about New York, a surprising book of beautiful poetry (who knew?) and a book about the women throughout history who were awarded a Nobel prize.

She traveled the world. She’d just spent the last two weeks with her very best friend Barb, cruising around Vienna, Prague, and a few other countries. She’s been to London multiple times. She loved Grenada. She never stopped moving.

She loved music from the punk era of London. Sid Vicious, the Ramone’s, and a ton of stuff I’ve never heard of. But her all time favorite was The Boss. Whenever she was making a serious promise, she’d swear on Springsteen. She meant it.

She loved everyone. Period. Didn’t matter age, race, religion, man, woman, or child. If she was your friend, it was for life. She always put herself last. She was fiercely independent and private. But she loved you she did everything to make you happy.

She loved our kids. Lynn has TJ and Jen. I have Sammi and Gabe. TJ is 35 and Gabe is 18. Why am I telling you this? She never missed a birthday (except for stupid COVID).
Never missed a Christmas. During her visits to our great tundra, she’d be on the floor, building legos, inside a cardboard playhouse cooking dinner (yes, we know she didn’t cook…it was just pretend.��

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