Remembering Michelle (#1440)

Topics/tags: Michelle

Michelle passed away a little more than two years ago. I thought I’d mark the occasion by reflecting a bit on some of the things that made her such an amazing woman. The list is necessarily incomplete, and it’s not in a particular order. Rather, it reflects important characteristics that sprung to mind.

Michelle was kind. She was thoughtful about dealing with her patients and considering their circumstances. While she never shared precise details, I could tell that she was always thinking about the person as a whole. And, of course, she was kind to her family and friends. There were, of course, times she was harsh or brusque. Nonetheless, kindness grounded her approach to life and work.

Michelle was smart. Damn smart. I know her intelligence from dealing with her daily. But there are so many external signs. She was admitted to Alpha Omega Alpha, the national medical honor society. She was a fellow in the American Academy of Family Practice. She published research articles on genetics and family practice. She wrote poetry. At times, her intelligence got her into trouble; we heard about too many meetings in which she figured out the logical response to an issue in the first few minutes of a discussion, and then spent far too much time waiting for others to arrive at the same conclusion.

Michelle was fierce. I struggled for the right term. I thought about Michelle was a force of nature. What do I mean? When the setting required it—such as when someone collapsed in church or at a swim meet, a baby seemed to stop breathing, or a patient came into the ER in labor—Michelle took over, telling everyone what to do, managing the situation, keeping people calm. I don’t keep count, but stories about these situations are among the most frequent I’ve heard. (I suppose I also heard a lot of Michelle met me where I was and didn’t judge me.)

Michelle was beautiful. I assume everyone could see this. I had the privilege of seeing her beauty grow and change throughout the year. The other day, I was getting ready for a charity event with a theme of Denim and Diamonds. While I couldn’t find either to wear, it reminded me of how much she loved dressing up for such events. She didn’t need makeup to be beautiful, but she could make herself even more so.

Michelle loved playing games. She loved the time with family. However, I’m pretty sure that would have played games even if we didn’t play together. When we were first married, we played a surprising amount of Circus Maximus. We played endless games of Canasta, first with her family, later with our family; I’m not sure how she put up with me as a partner in those times we were partnered. She enjoyed Coup D’etat and taught it to the kids. (She also taught them Canasta and Canasta strategy.) As the kids got older, she found she enjoyed playing Ticket to Ride, Wingspan, Welcome To … Your Perfect Home, and even Hanabi. There were many nights that I fell asleep hearing her playing Ticket to Ride on her phone.

Michelle loved reading. She read a lot. She taught the kids a love of reading. (I assume I did, too.) She was always willing to read books I suggested. She also enjoyed trashy romances. I’d swear that she made it through multiple books each week.

Michelle loved spending time with friends. I suppose most people do. She spent a lot of time at work, so it was sometimes hard to schedule friend time. But when she could, she loved eating out with friends, hanging at someone’s house, going to an event.

Michelle was proud of her children. It’s easy to be proud of the boys; we did a good job raising them. Or perhaps they did a good job of raising themselves. In any case, she loved talking about them (and even about me).

Michelle stood up to authority. I recall stories about times when she was a child and, say, told her religious education teacher that they were wrong. One was when they were only teaching half of some prayer. She knew the rest from services. And she said so. Her willingness to challenge authority stuck with her. I recall her arguing with so many people about ways to get the best care for her patients. I also remember her fighting with school officials about how they were treating kids (not only ours).

Michelle ignored gender norms. She was a woman, but often approached many problems as a man does. (I don’t know exactly what that means, but that’s what tests said.) She led. She enjoyed refinishing furniture. She let me do the cooking. She managed the budget (I think many women do so). And none of that made her less of a woman.

Michelle could be silly. What I most recall is her bouncing on the bed saying, Wake up wake up wake up when she felt like I was sleeping too late. The joy and amusement in her eyes and voice were astounding. I know there are other cases, but that memory stands out.

Michelle was adventuresome. She loved to travel. She loved roller coasters. She wanted to try skydiving, horse riding, white water rafting, motorcycle riding. She did some. I wish she’d had time to do more.

Michelle put up with me. I know, she did more than that. She loved me, deeply. And she loved me in spite of my too many flaws. She coped with my tendency to accumulate stuff. She accepted (or at least was willing to discuss) my strange approaches to the world. I’m so thankful she did!

There you have it. I’ve covered some highlights. I’ve missed many others. I know she wasn’t perfect. We argued. She could make mistakes. She was more casual in her writing than the rest of the family. Nonetheless, she was wonderful. I’m glad her spirit will always be with me.

Version 1.0 of 2026-10-07.