Michele Bourdeau was 81 when she died Sunday, July 26. Explaining my relationship to her is either very simple or very complicated. But dusty today … She was married to my brother for seven months. Then he died. Now, fifty-eight years later, she has died. I have been going through emails I had from her over the last four years, and she was still calling me little sister.

She remarried, and had a child and two grandchildren. She worked very hard at some amazing jobs, traveled all over with her husband, and did a lot of family research for her French-Canadian ancestors, and her husband’s Irish heritage. She discovered among other things that one of her husband’s ancestors, whom we will call ‘George’, married someone named ‘Anne’ in Sheridan, Wyoming in the late 1800’s. And that there were two couples with those names (exact first and last matches) who got married in that town that week. I went and looked it up myself, I was so surprised. A picture of a newspaper column was pretty convincing…

Another picture from their travels!

Michele took classes in photography. She redid this picture, placing the children in a park, when they were actually jumping off a concrete stair onto a concrete driveway.

Those who are wise will shine like the brightness of the heavens, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever.

Rest in Peace.