During my days of carefree adolescence and teenage heart flutters, my not-yet-boyfriend Lance got suspended one school day for losing his cool with another guy who may have been flirting with or insulting me—the truth was all in the eye of the beholder.
That afternoon, while working my afterschool job at the preschool on campus, I got a phone call.
“Hi Jessica, this is Lance’s mom, Meta,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Hiiiii,” I said with hesitation, as my brain balanced filtering through the events of the day and being caught off guard that this was Lance’s mom, my Lance—my best friend who I was starting to like as more than a friend—on the phone at my job.
“I know we haven’t met yet, but I need to hear from you what happened today. Lance tells me that he didn’t start the fight. I know you are a good Christian girl and I can trust you. Is he telling me the truth?”
My worry over what kind of phone call this was eased and I spilled the tea quicker than any schoolgirl gossip rattled off in between bell rings.
This will forever be how I remember the woman who would become my mother-in-law. She got down to business. She was fearless—never letting other people’s opinions influence her decisions. She was fierce in her love for her family and strong—incredibly strong—and the realest person I have ever known, aside from her son.
She was a force to be reckoned with, and how I wish I could be near that force just once more.
You can visit her memorial page here.
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