Goodbye, Michelle, my little one...

"We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun, but the hills that we climbed were just seasons out of time..." -- from the song Seasons In The Sun by Terry Jacks, written after he lost a loved one named Michelle, which also contains the lyric of this blog title

It's amazing that I could even remember this lyric, in light of this week's tragic personal loss. Our friend, KCCI Channel 8 reporter Michelle Parker, died of massive heart failure on Sunday, May 4; and all I can say is, our hearts are broken, yet struggling to celebrate the privilege we had to share some life with this lovely lady of the airwaves. The remarkable outpouring of loving reaction and tribute is here.

My connection with Michelle began when I was a teenager at home in Algona, IA. A regular viewer of people that eventually became colleagues and acquaintances once I came to Des Moines and progressed in my public musical career, such as Dolph Pulliam, Mollie King before she married Kevin Cooney, and the incomparable Mary Brubaker; I specifically remember getting excited seeing Michelle when she first started doing the "Community Calendar" segment around noon each day. As a mixed-race child raised by my black grandparents, who were the only black family in an all-white town, I was so excited to see a black lady on their station--you didn't say African-American back then. And I was equally excited to see someone who was a little more like me, less apt to be a cover girl, more apt to be among those who wished they could be someday, but would never quite fit "the type".

It's strangely appropriate that I can't recall the moment that I first met Michelle, because it really has seemed like we've always known each other; drifting in and out of each other's worlds of music (she routinely gave outstanding narrations in my productions, and her appearance as a fan at one of our recent Lady Blue gigs at Shooter's Hideaway had to have been one of her last of such outings) and faith (I served as her worship leader & Bible study companion while on staff at First Federated, and have remained one of her e-mail prayer chain contacts to this day).

My greatest memory of Michelle by far is that she was a Scripture reader in our wedding on 1-1-05. From that time forward, we got in the habit of giving a little "clap and cheer" whenever we saw her on the tube, enthusiastically lauding the big emotional stories, and occasionally grumbling a little during the, shall we say, less high profile pieces (what on earth is she doing all cooped up in that parka out in the bushes drenched by this monsoon, etc.).

As a singer and vocal coach, I am into "the power of the voice." I tell my students that we sing/speak who we are. In light of this, I invite you to return to the tribute clips of Michelle, and listen again, because it's all there in that voice: the kindness, strength of character, razor-sharp intelligence, authenticity, seriousness of intent; and above all, the undeniable power of a person who really knew the source of her own power, harnessed it with humility, and cast it forth in a perpetual state of seemingly effortless mastery.

So as much as I grieve the loss of this great professional broadcasting presence, I just miss my pal, my "homegirl." And I hope we all can honor her and keep her spirit alive, by conducting our own communication as "the reporters of our own lives" with hefty doses of "the Michelle Parker standards" of faith, hope, and love which, as easily evidenced in her life both on and off-camera, is the greatest journalistic trait of all.