A fact that my mother reminded her jokingly all her life. They named her Michelle White. They gave her no
middle name, just a first and a last. Strong and simple. She always said she wished her middle name was
Grace like our grandmother and so my first born's middle name is Grace in her memory. She grew up
in the same little town that we all did, but she was special, better, and different than all of us. She was
beautiful from the day she was born till the day that she passed. She had a smile that would light up a room
and a glare that would melt the surface of the sun if you incurred her anger. She made friends as easy as
anyone I know and could push them aside just as quick. She had a gift, some of the older folks call it
prophecy, where she knew immediately if you were genuine or full of it (as my father would say) just by
looking in your eyes. I remember she once made an issue of a choir director at our church that required a
meeting of the deacons in which she enraged him and mocked him so much I'm told that he had to be
restrained from coming across a table at her. Three weeks later the church discovered he was making 1-800
calls and promptly let him go. She knew though. She absolutely and I mean absolutely had to have the last
word in a conversation. I recall many times in conversations with my parents, my father telling her to be quiet
and not say another word, he begin to walk away and she'd say "Fine I won't say that you're wrong", or "I
didn't say anything in the first place", and it'd start all over again. She was the most stubborn person I've ever
met in my life and if you know my family, that's saying alot. I never and I mean never saw her flinch or budge
if she thought she was right and her cause was just. I sometimes envy that of her as I've gotten older. As
much as you could love her, she still had a distance about her that only made you want to try harder to gain
her love or approval. My last memory of her was fixing her car the day she passed. I know she was loved as
the registry tells us there were over 600 people that came to pay their respects and if I remember correctly
over a hundred cars in the funeral procession. We all should be hope to have such a send off.
I've wondered about her alot in the last several years, what she would have accomplished, what she might
have looked like at our age. I imagine she'd be just as pretty, her face slightly worn over the years but still
with a smile that would soften the hardest heart and most likely a wisdom of the years that many seek and few
receive. I also imagined she'd have done things her own way, regardless of the consequences. I wonder if
she'd be proud of my accomplishments and ashamed of my failings. I suppose even now I still seek her
approval. Some things never change and never will. The only thing I know for sure is she'd be 43 today and
I've missed her for the last 23 years.
Mike - you need to write a book - you write beautifully! What a beautiful tribute to her.
ReplyDeleteGreat tribute. Your best work so far.
ReplyDelete