But lest you think that Milette was a one-dimensional figure who walked through life on her knees spouting Scripture, I can tell you that such an image is far from the truth.

 

We moved with ease from the sublime to the silly. Our time together was filled with the grace of laughter. She had a wicked ability to tickle my funny bone. In one of my truly weepy moments these past few weeks, I lamented out loud how unfair it was that she should take her leave so unceremoniously and mute our special repository of giggles, belly laughs and so much more.

 

After our silver jubilee, I was in Milette’s company several times. Whenever we first caught sight of one another, the first few seconds were given over to shrieks and laughter – as though it was simply too funny to be together.

 

When she laughed, she had a full-body expression of pure joy. I saw this up-close when she was a guest in our home in the fall of 1999 (the same year the pictures you see here today were taken). One evening, after a long day of touring sites of interest in Washington, D.C., we went downstairs to the family room to relax. Dressed in our night robes and fluffy slippers, we turned on the TV – and there was Peter Sellers in a Pink Panther movie. Before long, she was doubled over, and soon we were whacking one another with the sofa pillows unable to contain our mirth. 

 

And I also recall a picture taken during my visit to L.A. in 2009. Milette was shown in hysterical laughter at something I had said, while I remained straight-faced. The contrast was comical. I haven’t a clue what set her off. These are just two instances among many that she leaves behind – pictures of pure joy, vibrant with her ringing, happy laughter.