Jeanne Robinson, Spider Robinson's partner, wife, helpmeet, co-writer, and doer of 10,000 things including being a Zen Buddhist monk and an award-winning dancer/choreographer, died of biliary cancer on May 30 at age 62. I haven't written anything about it here before because I didn't have the words. I think I do now.
My wife Jennifyr (yes, that IS the correct spelling) and I first met Jeanne Robinson -- and her lovely husband Spider -- in August 2006, when we were on a literary cruise from Vancouver to Alaska. During that week we shared, along with the group, many meals, jam sessions, as well as hearing Spider read from his just completed novel VARIABLE STAR (based on an outline and notes by SF Grand Master Robert A. Heinlein, whose granddaughter joined us for the cruise). Meanwhile, Jeanne educated many of us in the Alexander technique of movement as well as Zen Buddhism 101. And I’m also willing to bet she acted as Spider’s human alarm clock--he’s a night person, as my wife and I are.
I feel a bit like the guest who came late to the party, but got there just in time to meet and get to know the guests of honor, as well as have a bit of wine and sing a few songs (usually on-key, despite the wine). Our little company could not have had two more genial, helpful, kind, thoughtful and empathetic hosts during our amazing journey through the pristine wilds of Alaska. It was truly an enchanted week, and perhaps the biggest lesson we all learned was how to make our relationships better by observing theirs.
Over the intervening years, I would email Spider and Jeanne from time to time. Being a writer myself, I know how valuable creative time is, so I strove to keep my intrusions to a minimum, indicate when no reply was requested or needed, and to stay on topic (e.g., the latest idiotic modifications to the MS Word interface). Since Spider and I have stayed friends (or 'shipmates' as he says), I must have succeeded.
When I heard Jeanne had biliary cancer, I was--to use a British word that has now entered the American lexicon--gutted. My wife has MS, my sister--who also had MS--had died just six months before, and Jennifyr had lost her father and her best friend two years before. It almost seemed the Grim Reaper had taken up residence in our lives. Not as Grand Guignol as the list of the lost that prompted Harlan Ellison to write many of the stories in his superb collection ANGRY CANDY, but bad enough.
I did the usual things friends do in that situation: sent cards, money, and e-mails when I didn't have either of the other two items on hand. The last card I sent left the US two days before Jeanne died. I have no idea if she saw it, but it doesn't matter.
The spirit of Buchi Eihei (her monk name, meaning ”dancing wisdom; eternal peace") is now traveling the bardos, en route to Nirvana. In Earth time, about another 34 days. If you did or didn't know Spider and Jeanne's work, I'd like it if you could send some loving and peaceful thoughts her way as she concludes the transcendence of Earthly life.
R.I.P. Jeanne. Brave heart, Spider.
