lauren laughs

In Memory of Monste

This two-word question has been a mantra and joke in our family ever since my daughter could speak. Indeed, it’s possible “Where’s Montserrat” was her first sentence.  Up until three weeks ago, any time I was on the phone with Mignon, my daughter interrupt: “Miggy!  Miggy!  Hey Miggy!” Yeah baby?  “Where’s Montserrat?” Every single time.  She only had eyes for Montse.

When we gave Montse a Road ID bracelet for Christmas to officially welcome her into our family, after vital information like name, date of birth, blood type, emergency contacts, we inscribed the question “Where’s Montserrat?” because it was joyful reminder that she belonged, and she was fiercely loved.

We laughed at my daughter’s immediate and intense attachment to Montserrat because Monste wasn’t what you would call “a natural” with babies or children.  But because Montserrat loved Mignon, and Miggy is every child’s favorite adult, Monste had no choice but to get good with kids.  I think she took the challenge seriously—like every challenge she faced.

Montserrat could never just “kinda” do anything.

For instance, when Montse first moved to Atlanta, she decided it was a natural end to her crossfit days.  After asking us about our Peloton, she purchased one, and was immediately all-in.  I think it took me two years to get my “centennial” shirt for completing 100 rides.  It took Monste two months. 

And church!  Montserrat first came to St. Luke’s as Mignon’s girlfriend, and it would have been easy to stay in Miggy’s verger/treasurer/occasional guitar player shadow.  But no.  Montse quickly jumped in with both feet, serving on the altar guild, working with the Cuba ministry, and chairing the parish retreat.  The woman simply couldn’t half-ass anything.

And that brings me back to the challenge of becoming a kid-person.  I confess that early on, I was concerned that Montserrat’s reluctance around children would mean our family would become an after-thought as Miggy and Montse built their life together. 

I remember the two of them taking care of the kids for four days while Jay and I were on opposite coasts.  One night I called to check in and Monste said, “Lauren, I don’t know how you do this.  There’s never a break.  You can never not think about them or be aware of what they’re doing.  This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”  She paused a moment, and then continued, “So we’ve decided we need to watch the kids once a quarter, so you and Jay can take a mental break and just be together.”  I was floored.  She tried something, realized it was super hard, and then instead of backing away, the girl doubled-down. 

That was three years ago.  And since then, Montse has become the person every kid wants to talk to.  Look at the number of kids missing school today to be here.  They know what all of Montse’s adult friends have always known—that she was the best listener, always dialed in and present.  And being a good listener makes you good with people of all ages.

Where’s Montserrat?

She’s in every challenge you meet head on.  She’s in every community she helped build and care for.  She’s in the purr of a cat, the flight of an eagle over the marsh, the sunrise and sunset.  She’s in every giggle and occasional snort that accompanies ridiculous tik-tok videos.  She’s in concert halls, f-bombs, golf swings, voter booths, beaches, canyons, mountains.  She’s in every mega-watt smile and in every listening ear.  She’s in every single one of you.