So I have been thinking, and thinking about what I might say that would convey my feelings and my love for Mike. He adopted me somewhere around 11, I think. My Mother, Anne Marie married a kind, gentle man whose quiet demeanor was somewhat perplexing for a pre-teen adolescent girl. He never had a lot to say, but when he did it was meaningful and insightful. He was, for all practical purposes the only Father I have ever known. I can honestly say that I did not have full appreciation for Mike until I reached adulthood. His acceptance and tolerance of others was something to admire. Over the years, Mike and I had many discussions on various subjects. His advice, always sage and truthful. He weighed his words carefully, but gave it to me straight; knowing my weaknesses and strengths, embracing the child now grown. He loved my sarcastic sense of humor and we shared many a chuckle at the silliness of life. His self-deprecating style made him all the more real and loveable to me.
I was thankful to be able to make the trip down to see him in his last few days. Julie was a rock, and I hope someone is as dedicated to me someday, as Julie was to Mike and his quality of life and care. Never was there a better sister in a great time of need. In the days since his passing I have talked with him every day trying to find peace and celebrate his freedom from all the ties that bound him here. I’ve had some angry moments, which they tell is normal.
I had to venture to Cadillac on a day trip to pick something up a few weekends ago. He had a ratty old beach chair that was upstairs in the Shop…I took it with me and it makes me smile when I look at it. I posted a pic of him in that chair with Little Miss J. The surreal quality of this situation not lost on me or the rest of his loved ones and friends. I feel him with me. I miss him dearly. He will forever be in my head and in my heart.