Ron

Because of my close friendship with her dad, Bill, I had known Michelle Watson for most of her life. My most powerful memory of Michelle is the last time I saw her alive. It was a cold and rainy day so Michelle and my daughter, Melissa (who was 12 at the time), were snuggled up under a big comforter in front of the fireplace, while Bill and I talked in another part of the room. Melissa knew that Michelle had cancer, so she was fearfully asking Michelle about chemo treatments, hair loss, and if she was afraid that she might die. Michelle, who had every right to be angry and bitter because of what she was going through, let her true spirit and nature shine through as she calmly, and with great compassion, hugged and comforted my daughter. Michelle told Melissa that she absolutely knew that much good would come out of what was happening to her, and that she was not afraid to die. Bill and I sat there stunned, tears rolling down our faces, amazed at the strength and courage of Michelle. That’s why I try to honor Michelle’s memory.

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