Has the world seemed just a little bit dimmer over the last few days? It might be because of the recent death of an incredibly joyous, vibrant and loving young woman named Michele Smetana, whose funeral was today.
You can perhaps tell from the photo that she had Down’s Syndrome. I almost typed that she was Down’s Syndrome (a common way to talk about it) but that somehow implies that this was all you needed to know about her – or was by far the most important thing to know about her – when in fact her story was about so much more than that.
Kathy and I knew Michele because her late father, Joe Smetana, sang in Racine’s Dairy Statesmen Barbershop Chorus – and Michele became a combination #1 Fan/ Mascot/ Adopted God-daughter of the group. They LOVED her, and she loved them right back, and she attended almost all of their rehearsals – and quite often, she would be asked to conduct the guys as they finished out the evening with their theme song, “Keep America Singing!” I visited Dairy Statesmen rehearsals from time to time when they needed help with something, but I think maybe only once did I stay right to the end to see MIchele “conduct” her beloved Statesmen, beaming with that electrifying smile of hers that could light up any room – and that’s a sight I will never ever forget. I also know that even after her dad died, Michele remained very close to the Dairy Statesmen and was still a frequent presence at their rehearsals and performances. (I almost said she was a frequent visitor, but that wouldn’t be right at all! She was as much a part of that group as anyone!) Speaking of her dad’s death, I so vividly remember going to Joe’s funeral visitation, and as Kathy and I walked up to the front door of the funeral home, I wondered to myself where Michele would be. Would she even understand what had happened to her dad? If she was there, would they maybe have her off somewhere else, sequestered where she could be kept calm? Foolish me! Of course Michele knew what had happened to her dad – and of course she was right where she belonged, standing with her mom and her siblings, greeting the guests and thanking them for coming…. in most cases with one of her world-famous hugs! I just loved how her family included her that day, and I suspect that it would have never dawned on them to do anything else!
Another vivid memory I have of Michele is when I stopped by the Culver’s restaurant out by the interstate on highway 20. I’m pretty sure I stopped there just to grab something to eat, having forgotten that this is where Michele worked. (Culver’s has quite a nice employment program for adults with developmental disabilities.) Well she was there and on break, so we got to have a lovely little chat- and she ended up taking me up to the counter so she could introduce me to her boss. . . and you could just tell from the way he looked at her that he thought the world of Michele, and with good reason. Michele was an incredibly hard worker – who also did her work really well – and always with that joyous spirit of hers. It was so neat to see Michele in that setting, doing so very well, and I was thrilled to see first-hand the affection and respect with which her boss and co-workers regarded her.
Everyone who knew Michele loved her – and that was especially true of her family, who adored her and felt so lucky to have her as a daughter/ sister/ cousin/ niece/ aunt. And today at the funeral, a niece, nephew, and a cousin got up to speak – and all three of these young professionals could not hold back their tears as they each reminisced about Michele. One of them said that she honestly could not imagine what family gatherings would be like from here on without Michele there, lending her own unique joy to any gathering. As they spoke, it became so clear that this was a very special family that fully appreciated Michele for exactly who she was- and they will miss her terribly. They already do.
The funeral was beautiful, and I appreciated the sermon which their priest gave – in which he talked about how Michele’s life so impressively embodied the words of the Beatitudes. “Blessed are the peacemakers. . . Blessed are the poor. . . Blessed are those who seek righteousness. . . “ and how Michele managed to live out the Beatitudes despite her limitations. I loved everything about the sermon except when that word “limitations” kept coming up. Yes, Michele had limitations when it came to spelling bees or memorizing state capitols or any number of cognitive challenges. But when it came to loving other people, Michele lived and loved without the limitations that most of the rest of us erect as emotional protective gear. She loved fearlessly and limitlessly, and without playing games or getting wrapped up in her own expectations. She just loved and loved and loved. In some ways, she lived out the sentiment of what I have on a little plaque in my office at Carthage. There’s a picture of a little dog with his tail wagging, and the caption reads Dog Rule #39: Keep it Simple: Love Everybody. And although Michele may not have been able to write sophisticated love sonnets, I’ve never known anybody who knew more about love or loved as unconditionally as she did. So yes, there are ways in which she lived with serious limitations. . . but when it came to the God’s command to Love One Another, she had no limitations whatsoever!
By the way, at the end of the funeral today her priest told a brief story about how Michele would save up her paychecks from Culver’s until she had saved enough money to take her whole family out for pizza…. and then that’s exactly what she would do. And in honor of that, the luncheon after the funeral was pizza at the Roma Lodge down the road. And I suspect that for the rest of their collective lives, whenever any of the Smetanas are ever dining on pizza, it will remind them of Michele and that million-dollar smile of hers, a smile which lit up so many of our lives.