Memories of Michelle
The stories, laughter, photographs and moments shared here are part of how we continue to carry Michelle with us.
Moments in Photographs
A collection of ordinary days, family milestones, vacations and the moments we are grateful were captured.
Michelle’s Memory Video
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Share a Memory
Share a favorite story, something that made you laugh, an adventure you had together, or simply a few words about Michelle. Your memory becomes part of the collection her family can return to and keep.
Memories Shared
Personal stories from the people who knew and loved Michelle.
I didn’t grow up with a sister but I got one when Jim met Michelle. I was 18 when they got together, and Michelle quickly became a part of our family — whether she liked it or not. 🙂 Amazingly, she fit in quite well with the loud, sarcastic, somewhat dysfunctional Sommers bunch and she always had the best sense of humor, which is what it takes to survive in my family.
She was my sister by choice, sometimes my confidant and always my friend. She commiserated and didn’t judge (at least not during the ranting), felt my pain and celebrated my joys. She was everything a sister should be.
She gave our family Kenny and Krissy and I got to be an Aunt before I was brave enough to be a mom.
It’s impossible to choose one memory from a lifetime of love, laughter and sibling squabbling but some of my favorites were when Aunt Emma used to answer the phone and tell Jim “Lasalle” had called. That year we dyed Easter eggs, dressed one up and named it Lasalle. We never let that name die (a Sommers family trait for sure).
Michelle always had the best ideas too — once, to punk Jim and Danny (both of whom were possibly known to be a little tight), we made them superhero costumes out of paper paint suits with a giant “S” and “C” on the chests for “Savings Man” and “Coupon Boy.”
She always enjoyed a good joke, even when it was on her. One vacation in Cabo, Rob and I gave the parasailing boat operator an extra $20 to dunk Jim and Michelle in the ocean (of course after we had already had our turn), and she laughed right along with us.
There were the family ski trips with many, many humorous moments with my parents and the kids.
To my kids she has always been “Aunt Chelle,” and we will all truly miss the laughter and love that she brought to our lives.
A Letter to Mom
There are so many things I could say about my mom, but what I keep coming back to is how grateful I am for the time we had at the end, and for the relationship we had grown into before we got there.
Like a lot of mothers and daughters, our relationship wasn’t always simple. We were both strong personalities, and we certainly knew how to push each other’s buttons. But over the last few years, something changed. We understood each other better. We gave each other a little more grace. Our relationship became less about being a mother and a daughter who didn’t always see things the same way, and more about simply enjoying each other as people.
I had no idea how important that would become.
When Mom got sick, I was given something I never would have asked for, but that I will always be grateful I had: time with her. Real time. I was able to help care for her during her final months, and because of that, I got hours and days with my mom that life probably never would have given us.
There were appointments and medications and difficult conversations, but there were also completely normal moments. We talked. We laughed. We sat together. I worried about her. She probably got annoyed with me. And I became absolutely convinced that if I could just find the right protein snack, I could somehow solve at least one problem.
I bought protein drinks. Protein bars. Protein snacks in every flavor and form imaginable. Mom tried approximately none of them. Somewhere there is probably an entire untouched assortment of protein products that exists solely because I refused to accept that the next one wasn’t going to be the one she liked.
One of the greatest things my mom gave me long before she was sick was her love of animals. She taught me that animals mattered, that they were worth caring for, and that a house could apparently always accommodate one more creature.
I’ve carried that with me throughout my life, and I know I always will. Every animal I bring home, rescue, worry over, spend too much money on, or insist absolutely needs my help carries a little bit of Mom with it.
But perhaps the part of her legacy that means the most to me is what she gave my daughters.
They didn’t just know Michelle as my mom. They knew her as their grandmother. They had their own relationship with her, their own memories, their own jokes and experiences with her.
There is something incredibly comforting about seeing pieces of your mother continue in your children. A mannerism, a sense of humor, a stubborn streak, love for an animal… sometimes something appears and you immediately know exactly where it came from.
I’m especially grateful that before I had to say goodbye to her, I got the chance to care for her. To spend time with her that I once would have assumed we’d always have later.
I wish we had gotten more of it.
But I will never stop being grateful for the time we did get.
And Mom, for the record, I still think you should have tried the protein snacks.
I love you, Mom.
— Krissy
Remembering Michelle Sommers 