My Sweet Sister-in-Law

Shared by Jim Hauge on February 9, 2020
I first met Vicki in the spring of 1976.   I was down in LA from Oregon to visit my brother, Michael (Mike), as he and Vicki had been dating for about 9 months by then.  I was instantly impressed by her – smart, funny, attractive, and so very easy to be around.  I remember we went to the Comedy Store to check out the local talent.  That night there was a new comedian named Jay Leno, and it ended up being a very memorable night for all of us laughing out loud at this very funny man!

For the next 45 years, my fondness and love for Vicki only grew. Her smile and laugh were infectious, and she was always interested in what was happening in my life.  It gave me great pleasure when they told me of their wedding plans in 1985, and travelling with our dad to attend their wedding from Oregon was a real delight (he had never flown before!).  Dad thought the world of Vicki and was so happy for the both of them.

Vicki also loved a good surprise, like the time I called her and told her I wanted to come down from Oregon to visit her and Mike but not to tell him as I wanted to surprise him.  I told her I wanted to show up at a movie he was seeing and come sit right in front of him wearing a massive cowboy hat, just to see what he would do.  Vicki said, “Great idea, how can I help?”.   Over the next month, the two of us conspired to work it all out and, when the day came, she picked me up at the airport and dropped me off at Universal, where she and Mike showed up an hour later to see a late afternoon showing of some action film.  She got Mike in the theater way early, so when they sat down they were nearly the only ones there, with hundreds of empty seats all around them.  Empty, that is, until some hillbilly from Oregon sat down in the seat directly in front of Mike, wearing a very large Stetson.  I played it out until Vicki and I couldn’t go on any longer, and finally revealed it was just Mike’s little brother, playing out his worst nightmare come true.  Needless to say, Vicki and I laughed about that one for the next 25 years. 

After our father died in 1987, Vicki invited me to come down to share Thanksgiving at their home, with her Mom, Pepper, and her sister Pam and Pam’s family, who would also attend.  I did this not just once, but for 10 years in a row, making it quite a tradition for me. 

My wife, Jennifer, and I were married in 2006, and it was very special for us to have Vicki and Mike, my only immediate family, come to our reception in Salem. 

I feel very fortunate to have recently spent quality time with Vicki when I stayed with them for a week last October, and Vicki and I found things to laugh about then, just like we laughed together in 1976.  These final years were really tough on Vicki, but she had a way of keeping her chin up through it all that was really inspiring.  The love she and my brother shared, for over 45 years, was also amazing.  I saw firsthand what a devoted and caring husband my brother was to Vicki, and as tough as her failing health was for her, I could see it was equally hard on him.

As sad as I feel for our loss, I am equally grateful to have been so close to such a beautiful spirit, as was Vicki’s.  I will remember you always, sister.  

A memorable mum

Shared by Elizabeth Williams on February 4, 2020
Dear Vicki,
Thanks for being like a mum to me; you always encouraged me, listened to my crazy stories and gave me unwanted advice (hehe!). Every time I would come over, I would leave with something new of yours to wear or use.
I loved how affectionate you were with me - a love language we both understood. I loved watching tv with you - we were a funny mix - you liked everything and I liked nothing - but eventually we found something - usually British crime.
Thanks for believing in me and saying that I would be a good actress, even before I had told you that was a secret desire of mine.
I love your smile. Your artistry. Your kindness. 
I love that you would say I could eat whatever I wanted in the whole fridge or pantry! (Oh, Michael, I hope that was okay! hehe). I love your delight at me bringing you sneaky treats like brownies and starbucks coffee.
I wish that I had got to read your book to you, like I said I would.
I'm sorry the last few months were so dang hard. You were such a trooper - pushing through all of the many obstacles and endless health battles. I'm sorry I didn't visit you more. I guess I expected we had more time. 
Thank you for being one of my first friends in America and welcoming me into your home and heart.
I can't say I miss you because I still cannot believe that you are ... g o n e .
But, I can say that I love you and am so grateful to God for bringing you into my life. 

Share a story

Illustrate your story with a picture, music or video (optional):