Woman in a striped shirt sits on a balcony overlooking a lush garden with green trees, bushes, and blooming flowers.

Born Nov. 14, 1953

Cambridge, Massachusetts

Died Nov. 28, 2025

Brookfield, Vermont

Details of services

The family is holding a small closed ceremony soon, but is planning a much grander send off in the coming summer — a place where we can all gather one last time in her name and celebrate the life and the force that she was. More details will be forthcoming.


Colleen Candace Dunn passed away on Friday evening, Nov. 28, after a difficult battle with lung cancer. She is survived by her three children — Erica, Heidi and Nathaniel — as well as her beautiful grandchildren — Adeline, Tobias, Silas and Asa — whom she loved deeply.

Born in Cambridge, Massachusetts on Nov. 14, 1953, to Melvin Dunn and Mildred Baird, she had a challenging childhood and was eventually adopted by her uncle, who sent her to a boarding school in Bordeaux at the age of 12. Here, she began a lifelong love of languages and cultures.

She was fluent in several languages and turned this passion into a career in ESL that spanned all the way to the Department of Education in Washington, DC. She worked tirelessly to bring language to children, and more recently worked in schools like Montpelier and U-32, teaching Latin and French. When she could no longer work full time, she collected a small group of neighborhood children in Brookfield and taught them Spanish in her home. Long story short, her children learned quickly to never challenge her to a game of Scrabble!

While we mourn her passing, we are left with all that her generous spirit has given. Her love of travel, recently visiting Greece with her sisters. Her love of music — she saw James Taylor this year and even caught Joni Mitchell’s last performance in the Gorge. Her love of books, of museums, of thrifting, of art and food, of gathering around a full table. All these gifts live on in her family.

She was a wild and wondrous woman who was able to make something out of nothing, spin fancy from invisible silk thread; a woman who would open the door and invite you in for dinner knowing full well she hadn’t much to share. She will be sorely missed by all whom she touched.