By Michelle A. Kenney

There wasn’t a time in Nichole Annamaria Kenney McCorkle’s life that she wasn’t caring for someone.

Everyone thought my sister Nichole and I were twins. She was the oldest of five children.
I had the privilege to be the second oldest for 341 days of each year. Yep, 24 days we were the same age and I was proud of it – she was born Nov. 8 and I was born Oct. 15 – eleven whole months apart.

All of our lives, we were in the same grade and went to the same school – up until the 10th grade.

At Miles Standish Elementary School (now Michael R. White) my big sister was there for me. She made sure we got up early and got to school on time, she shared her lunch, beat up the boys who played inappropriately and applied alcohol and peroxide on my wounds.

She always cared.

She was always there.

The one time she had to stay home, I was lost and confused and had to walk to school alone. Who knew how much I needed her, my protector, my twin?

Nichole always wanted to be a nurse, a caregiver. She was born for it and proudly wore her scrubs almost daily.

She started out being an STNA (State Tested Nursing Assistant). She would describe that experience of cleaning and wiping up after seasoned people (well, old people as she would say).

It was a career path that wasn’t for everyone but fit her perfectly. Nichole never never hesitated to clear a stuffy nose for her nieces and nephews by placing her mouth over the child’s mouth then blowing all of the mucus out of the nose. Very disgusting to me – but she loved it. When it came time to take care of my mother’s mother, Nichole would assist with our grandmother’s backed up system by using her fingers to grab and help with the flow.

There wasn’t a day that passed where she would not check up and show up for our mom, my brother and my sister. As my sister would say – always there when you need her.

Nichole followed me to Tuskegee University and enrolled in nursing school. The stories about dead body review, taking blood, checking heart rates, and the excitement of using what she learned on the whole entire family let us know that we did not need to go for our checkups, we had her. We called Nichole before we called 911! My niece would call her the “family doctor.”

When I was due to have a baby, Nichole came and stayed with
me for a whole week. Nothing happened. The day she went home, I started to feel contractions (ironic, right?) so I called Nichole. I wasn’t sure if I really was in labor or not. She calmly asked a few questions, timed my contractions – which were two minutes apart – she told me to wake up our mother to take me to the hospital.

Nichole was a strong leader, setting the example of how to be a caring mother of three and later a grandmother of six. She supported her family members and was a hard worker. I never met anyone other than Nichole who worked two fast food restaurants at the same time, went to school and took care of her children all at once. Her life was full of firsts for our generation.

First to get a car, first to get married, first to have a child, and
first to get a job. I was the first in our generation to go to college. But I was honored to –for once – lead the way and for her to join me to work towards her goal of becoming a nurse.
Nichole was there to fix wounds of people she met, even when she was wounded. The first to forgive even when forgiveness may not have been warranted. She loved everyone for any reason. Trusted everyone for every reason.

For Nichole, family came first and family was everything. Nichole was my twin for 24 days a year, and my confidant for over 34 years. Her legacy as a sister and caregiver lives within her children and within me.