In the early hours of Monday, October 9, 2023, Eugene "Gene" O'Callaghan, 79, of Salem, NH, squeezed his daughters' hands three times to say, "I love you" and then twice to say, "Let's go," before passing peacefully in his home.

In his final days, he was known to converse often with his beloved wife, Jennie, who predeceased him in 2017. Gene often spoke of how since their third date, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Jennie, but at least he was able to spend the rest of  her life with him.

Gene was born in Newark, NJ, the third and final child of the late John and Gladys (White) O'Callaghan. He would say he was never the most athletic or smartest or handsome, but Jennie thought he was all of those things and more, as he was her devoted caregiver during her 30-year battle with primary progressive Multiple Sclerosis.

Before they met, Gene proudly served his country as a member of the U.S. Navy.  He loved to talk about his days in Panama, reveling in tales of mosquitoes as big as your arm and the friendships he forged.

After ending his service he was a go-fer for his local paper, ("go fer coffee" or "go fer lunch") but most loved when the copy desk asked him for a snappy slammer headline, particularly a witty one. He left news for a brief stint at the post office, and it was during that time he met his one and only, Jennie. In December 1967, he sat next to her at a post-Christmas party hosted by her neighbors – a little extra jolly from seasonal cheer – but the sight of her took his breath away. She wasn't impressed, but he won her over the next morning on an errand to get aspirin for the hosts. She broke down in giggles when he banged his head against the tree on her front lawn to show it was the party hosts who required a hangover cure, not him. Jennie, a goofball herself, agreed to go see "Cool Hand Luke" with this crazy young first-generation Irish-American, and by the next St. Patrick's Day, they were engaged. They married in quick order in May 1969, bringing their first-born, Kathy, into the world the day before Jennie's birthday in May 1970. Daughter Erin followed two years later in August, with youngest Jen arriving in the summer of 1974.

Gene worked for AT&T as a systems engineer through its multiple identities as Ma Bell and briefly Lucent Technologies. He balanced his paid work life for the joys of coaching softball for his girls, shouting "Bravo" at their every dance recital; building them sandboxes; tuning up their bicycles; chauffeuring them to field hockey games and fencing tournaments; and protecting them from any monsters under their bed. He would arrive home from work, gather Jennie in his arms, dance her around the kitchen, dip her low and kiss her hello, every night without fail. In the midst of it all, he won an unexpected landslide victory for a spot on the Wanaque, NJ, school board that made him the top story in the Suburban Trends newspaper the next day.

In the summer of 1987, the family moved to Bethlehem, PA. Jennie and Gene loved bringing their daughters to concerts at the annual Musikfest, plays at Allentown's Civic Little Theater and road trips to family reunions and celebrations whenever they arose. As his daughters grew older and his wife's health deteriorated, Gene never wavered in his attention and love. He listened with patient ears and compassionate eyes to every problem, large or petty, and every success, big or small, his children shared. As Jennie moved from cane to walker to wheelchair, Gene still found  his way to give her her nightly dance and kiss. And when Jennie once wailed over her condition that if he had to do it all over again, she would understand if he would choose a different path, Gene set up a vow renewal ceremony with the help of his oldest daughter to prove that he most absolutely would make the same choice of a lifelong mate.

He was so proud of them all and loved them all so very much. He applauded Kathy's tireless devotion to her children. Erin will never truly know how much he beamed with pride over her success balancing being a successful attorney and being so present for her children. Jen knows he never quite understood what she did for a living (but that there were LEGO bricks and robots involved), but he knew her work and team lit her up with joy. It is only as adults that they truly understand how much he and Jennie must have juggled and sacrificed for all three of them.

He and Jennie moved in with Kathy and her family in their house in Lansdale in the fall of 2005, when one-level living became a necessity. They enjoyed watching the Heath grandchildren – Mark, Robert, Sarah and little William – grow and thrive at such close proximity. The pair moved up to Salem to live with daughter Jen and her family in the summer of 2014. Both absolutely loved having the chance to get to know Jen's then-stepdaughter and their forever grandchild in spirit, Francesca Blake.

Jennie passed almost exactly three years later, in the same room he would eventually join her. He briefly joined a woodworking club at the Salem senior center, but was mostly content to take road trips, enjoy movie nights and play board and card games with his youngest. Technology allowed him to watch his grandchildren's plays and performances from afar, as well as have lively video calls and exuberant visits, especially with daughter Erin's children, Owen and Quinn, whose sweetness, silliness and energy carried him through whatever day they called or visited with a massive grin on his face.

Gene loved baseball with a white-hot passion that unfortunately none of his daughters shared, and trivia and puns (which they did). He never missed an episode of "Family Feud" and delighted in Jen's homemade oatmeal raisin cookies. He was skeptical of Amazon's Alexa, and frequently argued in much too much detail when she misunderstood a question.

Gene halted all interest in medical testing in the fall of 2022 and entered hospice in July 2023. The Rockingham VNA and Hospice team took such incredibly good care of him, keeping him far more comfortable than Jen could on her own. He quickly grew to love them as honorary members of his family. As the weeks wore on and more of the Gene his family knew disappeared, he would still surprise with a wry comment or a sly wink when least expected.

After summertime visits from Kathy and Erin, Gene's decline increased in speed and severity. Daughter Jen would never have been able to keep up without the help of the hospice team and the family is eternally grateful that they were able to allow him the death that he wanted for himself – in his home, surrounded by pictures of his family, under a blanket made by Kathy and her kids, with Erin and Jen at his side.

He could be stubborn and silly and yet so wise. "No matter what happens, the sun is going to rise tomorrow," he once told his daughter after a particularly rough day. His family is deeply saddened by the loss of this simply kind and sweet man, but they are softened to think of him dancing again with Jennie, in whatever sweet hereafter might await us all.

Gene is survived by his three daughters; Kathleen "Kathy" Heath and husband George of Lansdale, PA, Erin Turner and husband James of Madison, NJ, and Jennifer "Jen" O'Callaghan of Salem, and also by two nephews; John and Fred O'Callaghan.  He was predeceased by his wife of 48 years; Jennie M. (Przezdziecki) O'Callaghan in 2017, and by his brother; John O'Callaghan and by his sister; Catherine Brachlow each in 2018. Finally, he absolutely adored every one of his grandchildren: Mark, Robert, Sarah and William Heath; Owen and Quinn Turner; and Francesca Blake.

In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation to the Rockingham VNA and Hospice or the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. Gene wanted to be cremated, and the family will have a small, private service for him in the spring. They ask that you consider catching a loved one by surprise with a dance around the kitchen and a sweet kiss in Gene's honor.