Although I only knew her for a short time, I was blessed with Michelle as a roommate. My story is not one of conquering mountains, or traveling great distances as hers was, but we both started new jobs and the hectic post-university new beginnings at the same time. This is how she lived. Never before could I have realized the extent I would care for and respect someone so greatly, so fast. Even now as I write, my ears perk at the sound of passing vehicles, expectant still for this gear-clad adventurer to thunder up the stairs and announce her triumphant completion of another endeavor. The deep chasm that has enveloped my soul and sent such a spiral of misery through my heart as to knock me to my knees, has been bested only by the memories of her vibrant spirit and her immense love of living this life to its utmost exploit. Only now do I realize the incalculable impact her presence reverberated throughout the globe (though I was not surprised). I hold fast to the gifts she bestowed upon those she strove to show grace and bestow her kind heart; and her love of adventure.
I met Michelle for the first time in early August, 2019, and the only regret that I have is not meeting her sooner. Newcomers to the bustling hub of Los Angeles, Michelle, Thomas, Adam, and I, all armed with naught but eagerness, new professions, and a desire to dwell along the endless California beaches marked our intertwining destinies. Beginning merely as housemates, our kindred rapidly blossomed into a mutual feeling of family, safety, and respect; which was exactly what I needed as a green kid, who was born on the plains. Adventurers three, we men only dreamed of a good fee for our rooms and a view of the beach. It wasn’t until the arrival of our fourth, the adventurous Michelle, that our bonds fully morphed into a caring family.
Michelle wasn’t one to introduce herself through normal means. I received a call one warm August night while she was completing her mountaineering spree in Canada, finishing up a world-wide trek of proportions that I’m still to this day attempting to wrap my head around. Recently graduating of university myself, we quickly discovered many similarities and a love of the outdoors. Being born and raised in Wichita, Kansas, she found humor in this wide eyed kid’s disbelief that every morning a short walk was all to take down to the beach. Or if one so desired to climb, climb you could throughout seemingly endless mountain peaks within an hour’s drive! That’s something never before had I known, and something that Michelle absolutely lived for.
When we first spoke, she had “accidentally” called me after midnight. Perusing available apartments online, she had found our house in Manhattan Beach and “just felt like it was right.” With a view of the ocean, a wonderful beach, and within her preferred area (but mostly because it was close to the beach), she signed the lease almost immediately! Michelle was the kind of person who goes with their gut feeling, and never doubts a decision once made. Roommates already, Adam, Thomas, and I were able to meet her the night she moved in and share stories while in view of the bay, and it was like we’d known each other all our lives. The kind of person who you could meet in a day, and feel like you’d been friends with for years, her joy and energy profoundly impacted us from day one.
Although she had traveled to more countries than any of us could name offhand, she never rubbed it in anyone’s face. Her many adventures were just cool things that she’d done, and she constantly encouraged those around her to “just get out there.” After being in LA for all of 2 days, she packed up and went climbing in Joshua Tree with some friends and was absolutely exhausted when she returned late Sunday evening; so of course she was up at 4:30am the next morning surfing.
The night she returned I had cooked one of my favorite meals, beef and broccoli with basmati rice, for her and Adam, who had only been living with us for a couple weeks at the time. As a kind of welcome dinner (Thomas was out of town), we realized cooking was a love we shared as well. At last we were all stuffed to the brim…so of course she went back to the kitchen for seconds, and thirds, and then finished off the rest by pouring all the remaining rice into my wok and downing every last bit that was left; and then she made cookies. Amazed, I just sat back and watched while she exclaimed “don’t judge me, it’s just really good.” That night I began referring to her as my “Spirit Animal.” I had known her for all of a week, and was overwhelmed at how she would pursue something with every fiber of her body, for no other reason than a shrug, a smirk, and “It’s pretty cool, ya know?”
Over the days and weeks, we began cooking together and she showed me many of tips and tricks that she had learned from her mother; how to cook veggies quickly and full of flavor, what the best cooking wine was, our mutual love for Asian cuisine and Asian food markets, and how simple it can be to make a complete meal consisting of four or five different dishes all in about half an hour; although she usually overcooked the eggs. We became family. On the eve of her first company training in Washington DC, Adam and I stayed up with her watching “Stranger Things” till about 4:00am, with her flight leaving at 5:30 and she had yet to begin packing. “I’ve got TSA precheck, no problem.” She said as she threw her suitcase together…”I have plenty of time.”
She had a way of seeing the little things, those small details that mean so much to a person, but are often overlooked. She would catch even my worst puns, and appreciated my “small town” humor and how I saw the world, usually with a slight eye roll, but always joyfully; her laughter and jovial attitude removing any unhappiness or gloom.
She only knew how to encourage, and see the positives in a person. As we became closer, we realized the similarities in humor that we all shared. Adam, Michelle, and I would stay up for hours just talking about life, our hopes and dreams, and then we began making plans for trips that we were going to take together as a “family” in the spring; though after going on a 20 mile day hike up a mountain with her, Adam may have been slightly less enthusiastic about them. Those seemingly easy “quick jaunts,” “short treks” and “single day activities” held so much more weight and challenge to us mere common folk than I could ever realize, and her boundless energy and uncanny stride would leave anyone not jogging in a wake of disappointment.
Always bringing those whom she loved together, Michelle, her best friend Emily, Adam and I stayed up late together cracking jokes and laughing together for hours. We traveled together through LA, trying new and different restaurants, and foods that we’d never even heard of. She introduced us to new types of Sushi, Korean BBQ, Dim Sum, and something else she loved, red bean cakes. If you’ve never had one, try it. They’ll change your life. She laughed so hard at seeing Adam and I take our first bites of the…interesting delicacies…that she fell to the floor with laughter. Whilst awaiting for a reservation at an amazing Korean BBQ, we happened upon a French bakery and thusly pounced upon some innocent macarons. The simple memories are what I hold dearest, just enjoying each other company. Harshly then interrupted by the signal that our table was ready, off she trotted. If there was any doubt in my mind that the small stature of one Michelle Xue was held back by anything in this world, they were immediately dashed. Her speed and determination were unequaled, a sight to behold. Her three companions did all we could just to keep up, and failed.
She constantly spoke of her family. Looking forward to an upcoming trip to Japan, she told us about her parents, and her brother. She would glow as she regaled tales of what they had done together, where they had traveled, and their accomplishments. Family was always near and dear to her heart.
Michelle was patient and kind. Throughout everything she had accomplished, everywhere she had gone, and all the amazing things that she had done, none of them got in the way of her sharing with our love of adventure (even if slightly less impressive). She taught me how to surf; patiently. And I mean patiently. Every time I made positive strides, she was just as excited as I was, but at the same time, she was encouraging when I fell or couldn’t hold onto a wave. Like a master instructor, she took the time to guide and explain the more difficult arts in detail.
There was never a sad moment. No matter if we were having a rough day, rough week, or just struggling with something, she cared. She would listen intently, offer a kind word, and talk it through with you.
She wasn’t perfect: She would use my bathroom without asking; and I would find her hair everywhere.
She used up the last of my laundry detergent.
When she baked banana bread, many times it would overflow the bread pan and spill all over the oven; but I didn’t mind cleaning it up. Having found me cleaning the oven, with her affectionate smile she would offer to bake me more banana bread as payment.
She took my parking place. In retribution I would park behind her and block her in…but looking back that wasn’t very smart, as she was often up before 5am going climbing, surfing, or to run before work, and she’d have to wake me up to move my car.
She would eat my food, constantly. But I didn’t mind. I love strawberries, almost more than life itself; and I found out through much frustration, so does she. It was only after I had sliced them and placed them in the fridge for later that those forbidden fruits disappeared at an alarming rate. I began buying extra amounts of strawberries, and prepared more than I needed because I knew – some would go missing; besides, she made banana bread!
She made rules for the house, after cleaning the floor, no shoes were allowed anywhere except the front door; but when she would get home from a climbing expedition, she would track dirt all over the house.
When she was bored, or we were planning on going somewhere and I wasn’t ready yet, she would call me on my phone and complain, telling me to hurry up and get downstairs. In fact, she was definitely an attention junkie and didn’t like being left alone if she could help it. She was also thoughtful and gregarious – the life of the party, making sure that everyone felt welcome. I was woken up during many naps, “because it’s too late to be naptime, you won’t be able to sleep tonight, so get down here and hang out with me!” But I didn’t mind. In fact, I looked forward to those times the most. It was when we were all groggy, tired, and halfway delusional that we could be ourselves and relax.
As we all grew in friendship and a mutual love for adventure, she became the mother of the group. We had community meals often, and one particular meal stands out. A full course meal consisting of pork loin, mashed potatoes, pan fried spinach, croissants, and brownies for desert. With a mutual love for cooking, Thomas, Adam, Michelle and I all pitched in together, laughing and cooking on a hot September night with not a care in the world. As our first true meal, Michelle and Adam had scored a table on craigslist earlier that day, it was now fully set and we dined like royals. With a view over our balcony of the ocean, it was truly a night to remember. Together we had been watching Stranger Things almost every night, one episode at a time. Quickly becoming a ritual, we all looked forward to it and continued to build a strong bond of family together. After work every night, we would come together with the days happenings and relax. We could talk about anything, and the air of community made our varying worries and fears subside. The first major move that not only I, but Adam as well, had made from our home states outward into the crazy world of professionalism, were made more worthwhile than I could ever have imagined.
Michelle loved climbing, cycling, surfing, running, basically anything exciting that you can think of, and could plan out an extended trip overnight. At the same time, she made you feel welcome and important. Some days she would just decide to take a trip and leave for a couple hours, only for you to find out that she had just hiked one of the most difficult trails in California, or that she’d just been climbing with some people she met at a party 4 years ago and happened to see at the grocery store, or had taken a detour to some unheard of rocks while catching up with some climbing buddies from Georgetown University, or was going to be meeting up with a random team who were going for a quick trek to somewhere she’d always wanted to go. Above all else though, I think that the things Michelle treasured most was her family and friends. Being raised by her parents to pursue what she loved, and to never doubt herself, she would speak lovingly of her mother, father, and brother; always with a glint in her eye and her face aglow. No matter what trip she was planning, or where she was going, seeing her family and catching up with friends was at the top of the list, and always on her mind. Michelle was the greatest part about moving to Los Angeles, and I never could have dreamed of meeting someone so inspiring, encouraging, and full of life. Though she was young at the age of 22, she had seen the world. Michelle was an old soul, and even through seeing pain and difficulty, only looked to the future with excitement and eagerness for the next adventure that life might hold. She was the kind of person that only comes along once in a thousand generations, but never counted herself above others and the memories I have of her I will carry with me wherever I go. As all Spirit Animals, Michelle is now free and will be pushing me to do more, be a better person, and never accept the status quo. As much as I can ever do to emulate my Spirit Animal, I don’t think I will ever be able to match her walking speed.
