MATTHEW BURNETTE

Staff Writer

Christmas morning came and my brother and I were excited to see our presents with one in particular we were anticipating.

We had been taken by a new and exciting toy that was released, becoming all the rage to our age group. An often-cited item when pop culture fads and trends from the turn of the century are discussed.

The small cube-shaped boxes were hastily unwrapped as we both ended up with a small beaked creature covered in fur staring back at us.

It was the Furby, and we each got our own.

If you’re not entirely familiar, the Furby was a small, furry toy with an animatronic beak and eyes. It could talk, but the coolest feature was that you could talk to it and it would repeat what you said.

All morning, we kept trying to get them to mimic us but to no avail. Maybe we weren’t doing it right or maybe it was defective. Whatever the reason, we messed with them until it was time to go down to my great-grandparents, and then the Furbies came with us.

The only person that showed any interest in our toys was Nicole, our uncle Tim’s live-in girlfriend. We showed them to her and told her about what they did and were supposed to do before lamenting that they didn’t seem to be working exactly right.

She looked at mine for a few moments, found out what you were supposed to do to make them repeat what you say and then started the process.

“Wiener, Wiener. Matthew is a wiener” was the test phrase that she chose, and wouldn’t you know it, as crystal clear as could be, the Furby repeated it back perfectly.

From that day until the Furby fad fizzled out and we no longer had any interest in them, that was the only thing mine ever said.

That’s one of my favorite memories with Nicole.

She never actually married into the family, but many of my younger years were spent thinking that she had. She was always at all of our family functions and blended in quite nicely. She had an incredible sense of humor (as evidenced by the Furby story.)

Her and my uncle lived with my great-grandparents for a time, and in the backroom of their house, they had several aquariums and cages with reptiles from iguanas to snakes in them. She would let us go back and see them when we wanted.

Nicole worked with reptiles at the Nashville Zoo for a long time, and every now and then we’d get to go and see her there too.

Her entire life was dedicated to animal conservation, and she had a deep love for animals of any kind.

My brother and I would sometimes get invited to go with her up into the woods that surrounded our family holler (or hollow depending on where you’re from) and look for reindeer moss, a particular species of moss that grew in our area.

We’d spend time trudging through the woods carrying trash bags to collect the stuff in so she could use it in the reptile cages. It wasn’t the most glamorous activity, but we just thought it was cool she let us tag along.

Nicole and my uncle eventually split up so we didn’t get to see her after that. She came back into town whenever my great-grandmother passed away. She felt like she had lost a member of her family and wanted to make sure we were all doing okay.

It was really great seeing her, ever how briefly.

She moved to Miami, Florida where she worked at the Miami Zoo as the Curator of Ectotherms since 2009 and was a member of the board of the International Iguana Foundation, eventually becoming renowned for her work.

Occasionally some of us would get a hello on a birthday or just on a random day. That’s just how life goes.

We found out this past week that Nicole had passed away at the age of 56.

Even sadder, we learned that there were some demons that she had been dealing with that none of us were aware of.

Though I hadn’t seen her for quite some time, it didn’t really make any sense. I always remember her being a joyful person, always joking around and laughing. She seemed to have a great enjoyment for life.

 I guess you never really do know what folks are going through.

While it’s sad that such a lively spirit has left this world, I can’t help but take comfort in the memories I have of her from moss hunting in the woods to a foul-mouthed Furby on Christmas morning.

Rest easy, Nicole. Thanks for the joy we got to share.