Melissa McLay -- March 11, 1984 to September 22, 2002
In Collective Remembrance

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December 19 | Alaskan Wading
On warm summer days, when the low tide was positioned perfectly in the afternoon, Melissa and I would hop in my truck, perhaps remembering a towel and perhaps not, and head to the beach on the spit.

Parking in some stable-looking sand, we would make a bee-line for the shore, stopping twenty feet or so from the water to remove watches, glasses, and shoes. The water felt great on our toes, feet, legs, stomachs, and shoulders.

Rarely did we actually swim - the water was much too cold for prolonged immersion. Our wading activities would culminate at convincing each other to dunk completely under: get your head wet. Once that feat was accomplished, we would go back to the truck.

We did this as often as we could for two or three summers. When we forgot the precious towels, the seats of my truck would be soaked. When we remembered the precious towels, the seats of my truck would still be soaked.

On one such excursion two males, perhaps in their late teens or early twenties, followed us to the water's edge and gaped as we jumped right in. Being from a southern state, they could not believe we would risk what they thought would surely be pneumonia for a quick swim.

But with good looks and a great humor, we convinced them to join us. Never before had we heard guys squeal in such a fashion. We eventually did get email addresses, but did not try to contact them.

The day after her graduation, Bridger and I needed to leave for Fairbanks. We sung by to say goodbye to my mom and Melissa. She pleaded and pleaded for me to go wading with her, but I had no time.

How I wish that I could feel the cold Alaskan water with her once more.
Remembered by Valette | 3:28pm

please note: the dates for all comments posted before january 8, 2004 are incorrect.

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