It is inconceivable that Mike has been gone a year. Due to COVID-19 restrictions, stark disbelief, sadness, confusion and a fair amount of disassociation, we have not previously made a space to honor Mike’s memory. Today however, it seems very important, and we’re finally able to put something together.
I miss Mike like crazy, he was always close in my heart and thoughts, even when we were far apart in other ways. Some of my earliest memories are of Mike and of course Steve also. For some reason I always think of our early family as a tribe of monkeys, getting into everything, no personal boundaries, constant activity, all intertwined.
We have many photos and home movies, so the images and feelings are very easy to access and do not seem very far in the past. So many stories and adventures from those earliest days, birthday parties, neighborhood kids, picnics at the forest preserve, family dinners, summers spent at Columbia Ave Beach, the three of us trekking to Kilmer Grade School, Old Town Art Fair, trips to Flambeau in the station wagon, scary movies, crew cuts for the boys and pixies for Janine and me… and so on.
As Janine mentioned, Mike’s teenage years and 20s were distant from us, he was either in his own world playing piano or off with his friends on the top floor of our house or out tramping around uptown. In between there were, of course, the torment years. He tickled us until we peed, held us down and drooled spit on our faces, threw blankets down on us from upstairs, picked on our weaknesses… For me it was the horrid green plastic cup that I could not drink out of. It would somehow end up at my plate night after night.
The piano playing drove us all mad when we had to live with it every day, but later we came to love it, and admire his ability to make music.
Mike mellowed after he became a father, his life and goals changed. He was devoted to his family, and loved Eric and Brandon with all his heart. I have many memories of their early family, we all spent a lot of time together. After I moved to Flambeau we only saw each other a few times a year. They would come up for a week or two in the summer and Mom and I travelled down for Christmas and other festivities. There was never any question that we would spend holidays together.
We played Words with Friends (I was better) and Ruzzle (he kicked my ass every single time, by A LOT.) We had family meals when we were in Chicago, and sometimes we were able to go to Big Joe's on Sunday and hear the Jazz jams. He visited us up north and spent time at our house, he and Barbara came up together for a week, twice. I treasure those memories, and wish there were more. I guess that’s the nature of losing someone you love, you always wish there was more.
There is so much more I could say, but I’ll leave it here for now, and perhaps add more later.
Mike, you are in my heart always, Elisa
