...Michelle Parker

Michelle, your name, in it's native Hebrew and French diaclects, meant "one who resembles God".

Michelle, your life, in it's native intricacies and delicacies, meant "one who resembles God."

In the passage of life, we are sometimes, though rarely, blessed with offers of shelter; shelter meaning compassion, or beauty, perhaps kindness. Those who would shelter us in the present moment have the wisdom to realize that they too will perhaps need shelter as they traverse these same steps in later days. And so it was that Michelle and I met.

I had briefly met Michelle through my wife, Tina, who had been good friends with Michelle throughout the years, including time spent together at First Federated Church where my wife had been Director of Worship, or a job title that fit that job description. My wife can describe her own feelings for Michelle, and she most definitely did at her own blog, Spaghetti for Breakfast. In remembrance, I decided to look back at three times we shared, hoping to divine some truth for you to discover about her.

My wife asked Ms. Parker to read at our wedding, 1-1-2005. She gladly and quickly accpeted the invitation, and arrived promptly for the pre-wedding rehersal in her characteristic readiness. I have read other recollections since her passing that describe this same "state"; she always seemed "on" because I believe being "off" didn't suit her. She read her piece with a resolute authority that was so honestly "her" that I find myself looking back on that moment just now and wondering how many more people like myself just took her for granted because of this. Honest consistency is a cursed blessing in so many ways; did Michelle feel its sting? Regardless, she wished us well and was on her way again, back into the worst day of weather we had that year. Half my family wouldn't make the date, but Michelle Parker did. Her cursed blessing in full-swing again.

Later that summer, I wrote a series of four narrations that were read by local luminous friends and colleagues at a "Giants of Jazz" performance. The "Giants of Jazz" series is part of Des Moines' 'Jazz in July' events, and this particular GOJ happened to be the first. The Alpha. My wife had just completed her second career run starring in "Ain't Misbehavin' ", a poignant revue of the life, times and music of Thomas "Fats" Waller. She had also served as musical director for this production, and thus parleyed her time and dedication to that production into this GOJ feature. At her request, which came at my arm-twisting, I prepared these four narrations to tell the story that the songs couldn't always provide.

Again, she arrived and just stepped up and delivered the "song" of his life with a measure of grace and dignity that so few understand, much less could breathe into a piece such as this. She was showing nothing more than the brilliance of the unspoken. Her narration was not painted with broad strokes of animation, for that would miss too much of the finer detail that gives our lives character. It also was not lost for the grand scale, for a life-force as big as Fats deserved a sendup...and a sendup he received! I believe she had another engagement, so she enjoyed herself until she was obliged to enjoy herself somewhere else.

The last time I saw Michelle was at a little concert venue here in town. The band was jamming and my wife, in the middle of such maelstrom, threw in a characteristic 'shout-out' to her girl Michelle. Maybe it was between songs...does it matter? Our paths were crossing over and we had journalistic royalty in the house! I didn't get much of a chance to speak with her, but I greeted her and sat for a moment before carrying on to someone else. Do I regret it? No. And I firmly mean that, because I didn't treat her any less warmly than if I had known what was coming. At least that's what the memory banks are telling me upon withdrawl.

We were there to say good-bye, sweet one who resembles God. Maybe you know, maybe that doesn't matter anymore. But know that you mattered. I believe the greatest trick in life is the one you can't pull yourself. And throughout the centuries, so many have desperately tried to trick history into remembering a legacy they did not deserve. That's the problem. Try too hard, and ambition gets in the way. Some don't bother at anything, and some ambition could only help. I believe you had the right ambition, Michelle. The ambition of the humble servant. The perfect way when trying to get to the heart and soul of something important. Serve it, and it will serve unto you, right?

A eulogy in her own words, a closing in her own truth...

"It don't take all that!"

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Wasn't sure what to link to, so please google "KCCI+Michelle+Parker" and you find a treasure of this Treasure.

News was her love, she was it's Queen. And now a thousand years, between....