I feel so terrible about this, because I only just found out a few moments ago. Phyllis Nesmith, the former wife of Monkee Mike Nesmith, passed away the day before Valentine's Day this year. She was 63 years old. How was this unknown to me for two-and-a-half months? I adored Phyllis - I wrote a post about her a little over a year ago. She was beautiful both inside and out. She was an admirable woman not just for her years as a Monkee wife and for being a wonderful mother, but for everything she did in public service in her later years. Apparently at the time of her death, she had been fighting Lou Gehrig's disease for quite some time, but it was never publicized. That, I feel, can sum up a lot about her. Not that I ever knew her, or came close to knowing her. But she did touch my life in some small way that I felt almost connected to her.
She was a quiet sufferer, I suppose you could say (though that's not the best way to phrase it) - a woman that did not publicly confess her pain or misfortune. She did not want public attention steered toward her, which is rare to find in someone who was touched by celebrity for so much of their life. There was a reason that she was considered the favorite Monkee girl by female fans - she was admirable in her strength, beauty, intelligence, and quiet grace.
Phyllis and her family will be in my thoughts tonight, and I hope that her loved ones have begun to find their way to live without this truly wonderful woman in their life.
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