Nicole Dawn Quinn

From the moment she entered until her exit, Nicole would light up a room. Her life force was irresistible; heaven knows her first smile must have melted her mother’s heart. Born in Monongahela, Pennsylvania, Nicole was still in diapers when Mary moved them to Texas— on a wing, a prayer, and a plane ticket from Mary’s aunt and uncle. After a few years in Pasadena near Uncle George and Aunt Mary, Mary and her Nikki moved to Houston, where Nicole would call home. It was always Mary and Nikki, mother and daughter, blazing their own path, together on their own.

Nicole was brave and resilient, just like her mom. Because while Mary was fun (Who else let kids paint the bedroom in purple and turquoise handprints?), Mary was also fierce (Lord help the person who was parked in her spot when she came home from work). Mary had to be both mother and father as she found her own way in the 1980s, and she protected Nikki fiercely, with everything she had.

Little Nikki was sweet and rambunctious, running along the beaches that Mary loved, every bit of her sunkissed and golden, her hair flying behind her in summer. She fell in love with dolphins and dreamed of becoming a marine biologist. From a young age, Nicole loved music and appreciated orchestra. She would rewatch Disney’s Fantasia over and again with a sense of whimsy and wonder that came to define her.

In middle school, Nicole made fast friends and a few enemies: a bold and beautiful girl was an unknown quantity. She began forming tightknit friendships that would last a lifetime, and she gained more nicknames: NikkiDee, Chico, and the Mouth of the South.

High school was full of the best kind of trouble: Band practice in bikini tops, dance clubs, beach parties, running through the sprinklers at a golf club at night, stargazing from the sand dunes of South Padre Island (the best stars of her life). Nicole whirled around a country dance floor like none other and got low to the floor with the best of the best.

Nicole was always in it for the fun, and she had too much of it at UT Austin. She also was itching to be on her own, and for someone who waited tables, golf caddied, and held a constant stream of jobs since the age of 15, she was eager to make her own way. HR became a natural fit, though in Nicole’s hands, it was less Human Resources and more Human Relations. She was in her element managing morale and looking out for others, a surrogate mother to everyone in her keep.

Some things changed as time went on: she traded in long hair for short, tanning oil for face cream, and even beaches for mountains. But she still was sweet and rambunctious, playful and effervescent. She continued to collect friends and turn them into loved ones, amassing such a network that she lived the concept of six degrees of separation. From dancing to Dave Matthews in the rain, to Ladies Night In dinners and girls’ trips, to barbecues and pool parties, to music concerts, Rodeo kickoff and Houston’s festivals, Quinny (new nickname) still was in it for the fun and lived to make memories.

Part of why people love her was due to her charm: Nicole turned it on like the dial of a radio. She traded in charm the way a jeweler trades in gems: there was her flirty kind for boys and her sweet-daughter kind for elders; her Southern charm, her dry-wit sass (a sort of charm of its own), her Willy Wonka mischief with children, and of course her basic, gracious magic with anyone in service to her. Nicole regularly walked into a somber waiting room and flipped some switch, brightening world-weary receptionists with the sound of her voice.

But more of why she is beloved was due to her care. Nicole cared for so many, remembering everyone’s name and asking each how they were. She made friends with all her nurses, earning their confidence and gossip. Her heart was so big, it held room for all the particulars of her friends and their families, plus the trials and triumphs of her acquaintances along with their loved ones.

She reeled people in with her grin and her sparkle but gained their loyalty through her love and acceptance. Nicole took each as they were with an open heart, no questions asked. She saw the unique beauty in each person, and her countless gifts reflected her thoughtfulness. The only thing she couldn’t abide was intolerance in others. (And indecision. And tardiness.)

And there are the other things that can’t be forgotten. Her laugh was like a homing beacon in a crowded bar (or a hyperwave signal that can be detected thousands of light-years away). Even now, her laugh may be reverberating through the galaxy. Her joy was infectious, and she relished bringing adventure to others. Her enthusiasm for life was boundless.

Nicole was unapologetically herself, to take or leave. She could, for instance, make a mule look reasonable. She was fascinated at the accuracy of an assessment she took that dubbed her personality type “The Challenger,” known for being self-confident, willful and decisive. It noted her “enormous willpower,” which certainly was apt: she white-knuckled the uncontrollable nature of cancer with consummate grit, and no one—not her doctor, not loved ones, not even cancer itself—was going to tell her how to take care of herself. Pit her illness against FOMO (Fear of Missing Out), and FOMO won every time. Case in point: she donned a fabulous dress, red lipstick and red heels (her self-described “Sharon Stone” phase) to deliver a toast at her dear friends’ wedding in December, her fracturing hip be damned.

Nicole’s true colors shined as her hardships deepened. When Mary and then Nicole got the diagnosis of breast cancer, it was mother and daughter together on their own, brave and resilient as ever. And when Mary passed away, Nicole continued on, broken but open to life. In the face of her own mortality, Nicole consoled others over a breakup or a hard day at work. She held no rancor in her heart for others’ good fortune, only happiness. She became even more gracious, even more stoic in her pain. She was magnanimous in her care and love, which through the bitterness of cancer, only grew sweeter. And she retained that charm through the very end, wrapping even her last hospital nurse around her little finger.

Nicole leaves behind her loving family in Texas who welcomed her with open arms; a steadfast, rabid dog; and an army of friends with bonds stronger than blood: devoted sisters of 30+ years, multiple BFFs, numerous partners in crime, adoring nieces and nephews, and even a fairy godmother.

Nicole gains reunion with her mother, whose adoring gaze at Nikki long ago imprinted on our hearts, reflecting our own emotions.

We all fell in love at first smile.

We all loved and still love her fiercely, whether lifelong friends or newcomers to her fold.

From the moment she entered until her exit, Nicole lit up this world. And though her time here could never be enough, the afterglow she leaves in our hearts is eternal.

A Nicole-sized celebration of life will take place this spring. Details to come.