Melissa’s Story
A selfie with Candy’s bestie, Missy in 2019
I’ve spent my career interviewing women from every walk of life, first with the creation of Magic 106.7’s Exceptional Women show and now, through my podcast and radio series, “The Story Behind Her Success.” Nearly 1,000 women have shared their stories with me and these wise women teach us what really matters. Their stories are lessons in courage, perseverance, grace, kindness and grit. Writing for this outstanding women’s magazine has been such an honor for me. These pages give us inspiration, confirming our belief that if she can do it, I can do it.
Here’s something I know for sure: We all have a story to tell.
Sit beside someone dealing with death and they’ll tell you they don’t want to be forgotten. As our light begins to flicker, we want our lives, our stories to be remembered. Five years ago, the COVID pandemic shut down the world and not only those dying of the virus, but countless others died alone due to restrictions in hospitals, nursing homes, and hospices.
So many stories, never heard. So many final wishes, never fulfilled.
That’s what happened to my lifelong friend, Melissa. She died alone during the pandemic.
Missy was beautiful and imperfect, strong and vulnerable, all at the same time. I have a favor to ask: Will you take a moment to pour yourself a cup of tea or a glass of wine and savor her story? Everyone deserves a few minutes to be remembered.
We met at 13, during the summer before high school began and remained the best of friends through every season of our lives. She was a talented musician who played the piano and the viola and let me tell you, she didn’t have a mean bone in her body. We were part of a close friend group throughout high school and although it was no surprise to us that Melissa was voted Miss Newington, Connecticut at 18, we were very surprised when she got married at 19 to a 30-year-old man. They had two sons together and lived in a great big house. While we were taking finals and going to keg parties in college, Missy was changing diapers and driving a station wagon, living the life of an upscale suburban mom.
On the outside, her life looked pretty perfect. What we didn’t know was that Melissa was a victim of domestic violence and sexual abuse. She finally escaped her marriage, almost losing her life in the process. Melissa bravely took charge of her next chapter, returning to college for her undergraduate degree in her late 20s, and then earned her graduate degree in social work. Her focus? You guessed it: domestic violence & sexual abuse. This work fed Missy’s soul. She found her purpose. In helping others, Missy healed some of her own wounds.
At the top of her game, an aggressive breast cancer diagnosis stopped Missy in her tracks. She endured years of treatment, but her cancer was relentless and she was given six months to a year to live. Our daily phone calls turned into regular trips from Boston to Newington just to spend precious time together. Very often, her pain medications were so strong, she’d fall asleep during my visits, but on a beautiful spring day, she brightened up and asked me to take her for a ride through our hometown.
We put the windows down and turned the radio up, singing our favorite songs. That was the day Melissa shared her three dying wishes with me:
Hold my hand while I die
Have a funeral with my favorite hymns, readings, and prayers
Create a fund for women in crisis
We took a selfie that day, even though she hated the oxygen tube in her nose, and she made me pinky swear that I would honor her wishes. But the state of the world changed all that a year later. On April 26, 2020, just six weeks into the pandemic, Missy died. I desperately tried to be by her side, but the hospice wouldn’t allow it and my forever friend died alone, in the middle of the night, with no hand to hold.
Although every detail of Missy’s funeral had been laid out in advance, there was no funeral, just a brief blessing at her grave with her sons and I standing six feet apart, with N95 masks on.
Trust me when I tell you that I’m a promise keeper. For the last 5 years, Melissa’s three dying wishes have weighed heavily on my heart. A few months ago, on Melissa’s anniversary, I organized a Memorial Mass at our parish church where many friends came together to celebrate her life. On that day, the Sweet Melissa Fund was launched to provide emergency financial assistance to women in crisis.
I think you’ll agree that friendship among women is a sisterhood… a bond that never dies.
I can’t turn back the hands of time and hold Melissa’s hand while she dies, but I can fulfill her dying wish to hold the hands of women in crisis, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Why? Because Sweet Melissa asked me to.
Thank you for reading Missy’s story, and for remembering a life well lived.
XOXO
To donate to the “Sweet Melissa Fund”
Send your check directly to:
Newington Human Services
200 Garfield Street, Newington, CT 06111
Attention: Carol Labrecque.
Include “Sweet Melissa Fund” in the memo
OR Venmo me @radiogirl57. Note “Sweet Melissa Fund.” I’ll collect the funds and send them to Newington Human Services
