In Loving Memory

A dear friend and mentor of mine passed away two days ago in a bicycle accident. She had been riding on a bike path that weaves its way past farm land and Dorena Lake, near Cottage Grove, when she crossed the highway and was struck by an oncoming truck. I learned of her passing yesterday morning, as I was getting off work. Unfortunately I know of tragedy occurring to young people all too well, but for someone her age to pass away like this is more startling; something I am still having a hard time wrapping my head around. I think a lot of 'Grovers' are trying to do the same thing. This woman was the one who would console us as we mourned losses and tragedies. She was not supposed to become one.

My wonderful husband came home from work to be with me after I had called to tell him what had happened. For some reason her death deeply impacted me (in a way I wouldn't have expected) and I was so thankful to have his comforting presence with me. He drove me to get some flowers, which we delivered to her doorstep, and then he drove me out to the lake to just sit. I explained to him as we walked out on the dam how I find myself drawn to large bodies of water when something difficult or tragic occurs. Its like this primal desire or need to be near something bigger than myself. We sat for an hour or so, letting the sun warm us and the breeze caress our faces as we each gazed at the lake before us and were silently lost in our thoughts.

My thoughts pranced from memory to memory; recalling service projects, ASB duties, leadership conferences, back yard BBQ's, and numerous other high school moments spent with Michele. I thought of my friend Erika, who lives in Austria, and was Ms. Portmann's exchange student my senior year. I wondered if she knew yet. I thought of my 'second mom', Linda, and the upcoming wedding of her son, an occasion Michele and I had spoke about just a few weeks ago. The excitement and joy in her voice as we both reflected over the monumental significance of the wedding for Linda, and how excited we each were for her, but how we also understood her jitters. I thought of Tillamook ice cream: Brown Cow was a staple at ASB gatherings, and an ongoing joke. I thought of our mutual love for Oregon State and how I appreciated Michele's exuberance for the Beaver's, as I identify with that team as well. I thought of friends and classmates and other mentors who would be in tearful sorrow over the passing of this woman. And I cried.

But, I also thought of the immense joy I saw on her face the last time I spoke with her. I thought of how, quite unexpectantly for me, we had bonded in recent years over a mutual and intense love of traveling. I thought of how she had given me tips about my upcoming trip to Istanbul, and how there is a place just outside the city that was a deeply spiritual experience for her as a Catholic. I thought of how she had always made immense effort to be there for people, regardless of what they were going through. I thought about how her legacy is deep and wide, and extends much further than what anyone would probably even imagine. I thought about how deeply she had impacted my own life, without me being consciously aware of it. And I thought, again, about how precious life is.

Its times like these that I realize who I have around me and how much I hope they know I love and cherish them. And I also realize how much I want to give of my own life in order to follow such an example. All we really have to give in life is ourselves, our time. I am reminded again to not waste the minutes that make up my life.

Thank you, Michele, for all you offered all of us and all you gave. You will be dearly missed.