The Wife's Mom, Jacqueline Kehoe, died back in December from complications of Pulmonary Fibrosis. We had her memorial service this last Friday. It was well attended and nobody started a fistfight, so I'd say it went well. As several people got up to say a few words, everyone made mention of the fact that they "had a few good stories" about her. Since no one actually TOLD one, I figure someone ought, so I stepped up. It follows hence...
When The Wife was yet but a little girl, her mom took her to the movies. About half-way through the film, she started wiggling in her seat. "What's wrong?" asks Jackie. "There's something wrong with my seat." says she.
Jackie turned around to discover that some unbalanced gentleman had sat behind the innocent waif, had slipped his hands up between back and seat of her chair, and was feeling her little patootie up.
Now, this was the early 70's. The average person might have simply moved seats, perhaps made a complaint to the manager. Jackie was not "the average person". She stood up and proceeded to verbally rip the creep a new one, punctuated with pelts from her prodigious pocket book. The man likely injured his back slinking out of the theater.
Jackie would go through hell and high water to protect her children, and make sure they were safe. I learned this every.single.day of my married life. She was a glorious person with a life full of high points and strong emotions. She was difficult to forget, and gave you no reason to wish to do so.
We shall miss her.