Remembering Melly

When I think of my friend Melly, I think of many things but two adjectives describe her best: brilliant and gracious. Melly passed away on March 1st, and she will be greatly missed.

Born Mary Newport Taylor, she was called Melly by her two adoring older sisters. They convinced her that "Melly" was the Chinese pronunciation for Mary. It stuck. She was Melly to her friends and sisters. To her many nephews and nieces, she was called Port.

Melly was a member of the same church all of her life. She was an accomplished singer, an alto, and sang in choir. Many songs were performed with her sister, Edith. Melly studied at the Peabody Conservatory in Baltimore and was a piano teacher who instructed many fine young pupils. She was a patron of the arts and loved music. Other joys in her life were animals, her community, family and friends.

I met Melly when I joined the Piedmont Writers Group in 2008. She was a gentle, soft spoken lady but when she read her poetry, we listened! Poetry came easily to this former music teacher. Her love for music was evident when she read her "songs." One was a waltz set in 3/4 time. It was about a girl who had a cold and it read something like this: "I would dance with you, but I have the flu," and it goes on to say "If I only had a tissue, ACHOO!" The poem flowed like a sweet, humorous song and we never tired of hearing it.

Melly wrote fantasy and science fiction, love poems and humor. I call her writings brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I hope there is a way to compile her work so the world can enjoy her poems and stories. The way she turned a phrase or effortlessly constructed a sentence was pure art.

I would also describe Melly as gracious. If anyone did the slightest thing for Melly, she would thank them profusely. And she meant it. She was always grateful for any small favor: a ride, phone call or a plate of cookies. She loved cookies.

I think Melly was the epitome of a Southern lady. Proud of her family and its rich history, she lived in her family home from age five until her death at age seventy six. I wish I had known her as a young woman but I was privileged to know her these last few years.

At Melly's funeral, Margaret Adkins read a poem she had written for her dear friend. It was a lovely memorial to Melly called "Goodbye To A Friend." She read, in part, "She might sing but you won't hear her" And then spoke of "angels drawing near her."

I imagine she is also writing poetry. We will miss you, Miss Melly.