It has been for a while now, but there was always the promise that it would be filled again--that Jeannine would come back to work, and that I could pop into her office for a delicious treat.

And I could always count on the bowl being filled with candy I liked because Jeannine took care of me. She took care of all of us. Jeannine knew what we wanted, and she went out of her way to get it for us.

I suppose that was her way of ensuring that we'd visit her. As much as she liked to tell us all that we were "co-workers, not friends," or to act put off by a pop-in, Jeannine loved to chat with and catch up with us.

While I occasionally tossed change Jeannine's way to help offset the cost of my Sweet Tart addiction--as an ongoing joke, I'd say, "All I have is a five," and I'd flip her a nickel--I'm afraid I never stuck around to chat much. Of course, I regret that now.

So, Jeannine, if you're reading this, I'm sorry for all the times I took your candy without sitting down to ask about your day, or your nephew in Iraq, or to tell you something funny that Kevin had said. I was always in a rush, and I guess I thought there would be plenty of time to catch up later. Turns out there wasn't.

Every time I enjoy a handful of Sweet Tarts, I'll think of Jeannine. And her empty candy bowl.