There is never an easy way to say goodbye to someone you love, especially someone as remarkable as my stepdad, Dr. Jack Fishman, who passed away this weekend. Jack was like a father to me, after having lost my own father at a very young age. I used to tease Jack that he treated me just like one of his own children by making sure I was always ok and taken care of, by loving my children, and by yelling at me for just about anything. I would yell back and then we would laugh. That was love. That was Jack. Jack was filled with charm, filled with compassion, filled with brilliance, filled with enough cantankerousness to overflow the Hudson, it’s what made him special. Always humble and never wanting to really talk about his breakthroughs in scientific research, Jack Fishman, managed to change the world for the better, and forever. Jack is a legend in the medical world. Mention the drug that he invented, Naloxone, and any doctor or nurse or studied medical professional will know it. Naloxone is an opiate antagonist, which is a really fancy way of saying that it will reverse the effects of opiates in the system in the case of an overdose. Naloxone has saved countless lives across the globe and there is a push now to make the drug widely available and easily accessible to everyone, not just medical professionals. That’s why saying goodbye to Jack is almost impossible because he will be remembered every time Naloxone is used, which is every day. Jack had become fairly quiet in the last few months and any conversation with him was usually short but always meaningful. He never missed a chance to tell me how wonderful my mom was, and how beautiful she is, and how much he loved her. One of our last talks was quintessential Jack. He was going on about my mom and said to me “Your mother is so good.” I replied with “I know, but what about me?” And he smiled and said “You’re getting good.” That was Jack, and that is why I loved him and will miss him every day.