Memoirs of Mommy
Nichole Greene
1976 – 2009
Norm would like to invite you to take the time to record a thoughtful memory or story about Nichole. These stories will eventually be compiled in to a keepsake book to be treasured by Norm & the children in years to come.
HELPFUL SUGGESTIONS:
- Please make sure your story is descriptive of Nichole; one that paints a clear picture of who their mommy was, as seen through the eyes of her friends and family
- Be sure to include pertinent details such as dates, places, shared experiences, as well as how she impacted your life
- Handwritten notes add a more personal touch but need to be legible…otherwise it might be best to type it out
- Upon completion, please return to Norm at the address listed below:
Norm Greene
29719 Fitch Ave., Canyon Country, CA 91351
gmbfoto@hotmail.com
1 comment:
Shortly after becoming a Christian and a regular fixture at my church's high school youth group, a young Italian girl started to show up regularly. She'd grown up in the city, and was a tough kid. She'd recently given her heart to Jesus. We met sometime in those high school years, and we started to talk . . . and talk . . . We talked about spiritual things while tossing a football at the park. We talked at her house, we talked at my house. We talked between classes; her high school was next to the junior college I went to. Mostly, though, we talked while we drove around the city in my beige Dodge Caravan. As we navigated the streets of L.A., we looked at houses and we talked about the future, school, missions, marriage, and anything else that came up.
Nichole was in Italy when I got married. She met a guy in Italy, and they got engaged. It was a short-lived engagement. Nichole came home heartbroken, certain that she was destined to a life of solitude, a life of an old maid who would die alone. She came over to our humble abode to share with us her tale of woe. Wanting to cheer her up, we got in my black Jeep Cherokee and drove to Santa Barbara. She sang love songs with Dolly Parton, songs about cowboys and honky-tonk women and heartache. Two months later, Nichole told me she was engaged to "the most handsome man" in her Sunday School class (her exact words).
Eight years later, Nichole called to tell me she'd been diagnosed with cancer. More people than I can count came to her side to help with cleaning, cooking, childcare, overnight hospital stays, record keeping, rides to doctors, etc. My yellow Subaru Baja was often parked in front of her house. After one doctor's appointment, we went (at Nichole's request) off-roading. We drove to the hospital together, singing along with Amos Lee, "I ain't gonna be nobody's fool." Nichole was never anybody's fool. She loved God and she loved her family. She loved anyone she had the chance to love. She talked joyfully to all of her doctors and nurses about Jesus. I was in the car when I found out she died, and I talked about our off-roading adventure at her funeral.
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