"Weep not for the memory...."

Mike: I thank God so very much for allowing us to have you in our lives for 31 years, and I pray for guidance in setting up this web site of your history...to provide a place of comfort for those who love you and miss you so much. I hope also to provide an introduction of you to all those who only knew you briefly, and to show them that there were many sides to you, all coming together to make the YOU that we all knew and loved so very much. You were not a saint, and I don't mean to give that impression--you were a normal man, a child of God, who made mistakes, who owned up to them, learned from them, and courageously went forward with determination to live your best life possible. I hope that all who knew and loved you will come away from this site with a sense of peace and joy, and those who only knew of you, will come away with the sense of knowing you a little better, and feeling blessed for having touched on it, even if only briefly. Loving you always, Mom

"Brain surgery? No big deal...just send food!"

We will all remember Mike in our own way--as husband, daddy, son, brother, uncle, or friend. But we all share the same gift of witnessing Mike facing his own mortality with the same awesome outlook he had on life. This is a quote from his journal: "I tend to be the kind of person who doesn't let much affect him; I roll with it and just take what I can out of it that's positive--there's always something--and learn from the negative..." Mike lived this philosophy every day.

Us guys....

Mike's boys were the rudder in his life, steering him in the right direction whenever he veered off course. Mike seemed to grow up as his boys were growing, and he settled in to the role of "dad." He showed his boys that it is possible to be a dad and yet keep the spirit of being a kid at the same time--sharing with them all of his childhood passions...Star Wars, action figures, baseball, drawing, and of course, music. Mike showed his boys that family is what it's all about. He also set so many examples for them: if you can't be doing what you love, then love what you are doing...tomorrow is another day; it is never too late or too hard to say "I was wrong, I am sorry," or "I love you." Mike's boys didn't have to wonder if their dad loved them; he showed them, over and over again. Shortly after Mike's second surgery, when he first received the diagnosis of brain cancer and the grim prognosis, his very first thoughts were of his children, and how he would not be here for them..."I won't get to see Chandler and Kameron graduate high school," and "I won't see Damon start school" he cried, and he was heartbroken, and broke down and cried for the first time since he was first diagnosed. But his tears were soon replaced with the same determination and "what is, is" spirit that carried him through his life, through the good and the bad, and gave him the strength he needed to do what had to be done--to seek out treatment to help him live as long as possible, and in the process to continue to do as he had done all of his life--live each new day to the fullest possible, never looking back. And he did; oh, he did.

"No, it's not lunch...just pucker up..."

Whether it was teaching Chandler how to blow the seeds off of a dandelion..

"I'd swallow the ocean just for you...."

..showing (literally!)Kameron the glories of body surfing...

"Sleeping takes practice, Damon..."

...or, demonstrating the proper technique of napping to Damon...

"Yankees?" NEVER!!!!"

Mike was there, showing his boys how to embrace it all--passionately!

"...and it began..."

...and then, there's Sarah...Mike's most passionate embrace of all...

"Mike's life came full circle when Sarah came to stay..."

When Sarah entered Mike's life, and consequently, our family, she really didn't know what she was letting herself in for...it quickly became apparent to her though-- crazy, always something happening, passionate feelings, and never a dull moment here in our little noisy corner of the world. Sarah and Mike married in November of 2004, lived with us (Mike's parents) to save for their own place, and things moved along at their normal hectic pace, just like always, but then came to a screeching halt on May 18, 2005, the day Mike was diagnosed with a brain tumor. And just shy of six months of marriage, while still adjusting to married life and the many demands of a new baby, Sarah had to learn to deal with an interloper into her life that she never bargained for...the terminal illness of her husband. "In sickness and in health" would come to mean more than either Mike or Sarah ever imagined. That summer, Sarah stayed home with Mike, and she and Mike and Damon made the trek to the hospital every day, presenting to the clinic for Mike's radiation treatments--a tiny band of three determined soldiers forming a mighty army ready for the fight of their lives, and prayed, along with the rest of us, for strength and courage for this bumpy journey they were on... Even Kameron and Chandler went to the clinic to take a look at the plan of attack that was Mike's radiation treatments--and came away with an even greater understanding of what their dad was doing to try to fight this monster known as cancer that had invaded their lives. Sarah and Mike, though, and all of us, soon discovered that cancer has its own agenda, and wishes and love and determination and struggles and yes, even a tiny but mighty army, sometimes don't have any impact on cancer; it keeps raging on, relentlessly... But we also learned that there were many things cancer couldn't do, and the most important thing it couldn't do was overshadow love and faith...and the strength you need to get through it all, even when you don't think you can go one more day fighting it, comes from God and the support of all the people who love you, and prayers--lots of them. For the next 17 months, until God took him home at 8:10 pm, on October 14, 2006, Mike and Sarah struggled to live a lifetime in a few short months, never feeling sorry for themselves, never giving up, never asking "why us?" Now, we all attempt to learn a "new normal" as we try to live without this shining star who once illuminated all of our lives, this beacon of courage, and inspiration, and unconditional love. We know his spirit is still with us...he lets each of us know every now and then, and for that we are thankful, just as we are thankful and feel blessed for the time we did have with him...and while we don't know the "why" of his leaving us so soon, we do know that God came to end Mike's suffering by calling him home. And, we believe that we will all see Mike again one day, in a place where "tiny but mighty" armies aren't needed, because things like cancer don't exist, pain doesn't exist, and peace and love and joy are eternal. The lessons we learned from Mike about love and acceptance, courage and faith, will live on after him, through the three beautiful children God blessed him with, and through those who knew and loved Mike. And, if you knew Mike, you loved him!!

At Mike's birthday celebration, August 20, 2006---thank you, God, for this time and this blessing...

31 years--much, much too short for all of us who knew you and loved you. Our precious son, we thank you so much for all you gave to us in those few short years--so many wonderful memories; enough to last a lifetime--and yet, not nearly enough, as we all wish so much you were here to create many more. You truly raised the bar for your children--for all of us--with your examples of courage and faith. Your "dash" counted, Mike, so very much. Because of you, we will be more loving, we will be more courageous, we will be more tolerant, we will be more aware; we will be MORE, period.  Your legacy to all is your courage, your love, and your inspiration.  Our lives for now seem empty without you, but will be fuller because of you.  Thanks, Mike, for the privilege.  Forever loving you...Mom, dad, Kim, Cathi, and Davis

"Best Buds..."

And friends...Mike "never met a stranger" and was a friend to pretty much everyone he met, and he had many friends we didn't even know about, who we met during the last days of his illness, and also at his services. A lot of them told us how much Mike had influenced them in one good way or another--setting the example of tolerance, acceptance, and "going with the flow," and how his great, dry sense of humor worked its magic on all who knew him. One friend who was with him through it all...his good days, his bad days, his okay days, and his not so okay days...was Denis. Mike met Denis in junior high school and the rest, as they say is history. But, oh what a history...shared lives, shared hobbies, shared interests, and some not shared, but tolerated by one or the other--ahem, Denis, Phish quickly comes to mind...Mike's obsession with them, I know sometimes drove you mad--but the other things, the movies, the TV shows, the Red Sox, the being there for each other no matter what... Denis and Mike had planned on traveling/moving to California some day, to see what they could see, I guess--one of those far off dreams that we all have. But one day Mike, who could be so impulsive sometimes, called me from work and said "I'm going to California tonight with a friend who is driving out that way. He's going to give me a lift. I'll find a place when I get there." I asked Mike what he was thinking...what about his boys, his family, his life here, his friends? He said it would all work out--he just felt like he really needed to do this and this was his opportunity--he was going to "rot" in New Hampshire if he stayed. So, he quit his job that night, came home, tossed a few things into a backpack, put on his high black Doc Marten boots and grabbed his leather motorcycle jacket, wrote a note to his kids, and left. Didn't call Denis, didn't leave him a note as far as I know. Denis kept his feelings about it to himself, but everyone figured he was pretty ripped about it. Mike left without him, and nothing would change that. Nothing, that is, except for Mike coming back, realizing that his life, his family, his friends, all that counts, were here, not anywhere else, and so he came back. The first thing he did that very first day, was go over to Denis's and leave him a note that he was back. But Denis didn't call right away. Later that same day, Mike told us he still had some "time" left on his bus ticket that he had used to come home, and wanted to "run up to New York" to see a friend. His dad and I were so afraid that if he left again, he wouldn't come back this time, and we pretty much pleaded with him to just stay put and forget about the ticket. After some time, with Mike, stubborn as usual, not relenting, we left him to figure out what he was going to do--after telling him that no, we wouldn't drive him to the bus station. His dad and I went to bed, with our prayers directed to God that Mike would just 'stay put' now. When we got up in the morning, I noticed that Mike's door was open and his bed hadn't been slept in. I ran downstairs, but he was gone. I went back to tell his dad, tears blurring my way back upstairs, and we stood there, hugging each other, praying that Mike would still be okay. As his dad held me, I noticed over his shoulder, something hanging from our bedroom doorknob. It was a note, written on a very long string of toilet paper: "Mom and dad: I am at Denis's. He came by at 3 am, and took me to his house. Will see you later. Love you, Mike." Oh, God, we were never so glad to see toilet paper in our lives. We laughed til we cried again, and we knew, it was going to be okay. Mike was back. Denis was back. Life was good again.

God sent Eric to Mike and us...He knew we needed him..(5/06)

And then, there are those friends who are in the background, just keeping in touch over the years, because of earlier days--like school, etc. One of those friends is Eric R. (I say Eric "R" because Mike has THREE friends named Eric; Eric R., Eric H., and Erik G.) Eric R. was just minding his own business, residing in Puerto Rico, piloting airplanes, living his faith, when God chose to nudge him on the shoulder and let him know that he was needed back in the states. The week before Mike was diagnosed with cancer, Eric returned to the states to live, and he called Mike. They got together, and the next week, Mike was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Eric was with Mike and Denis and us all through Mike's surgeries and recovery. He came over when Mike learned of the terminal status of his illness, he prayed with us, he comforted us, and he was just, here. Eric was here, quietly setting the stage for Mike's return to his faith, without even knowing it. Mike had drifted from his faith over the past few years, and we all prayed fervently that he would embrace it again, and now, it seemed, the sooner the better. We talked with him about it, but as usual again, once Mike's mind is made up, it is made up. Well, God had other ideas, and He chose Eric to deliver them, straight to Mike's heart.

Mike renewing his Baptism...

Through Eric's wonderful example of true faith in God, along with the deep faith shown by Mike's and Sarah's families and many friends, and the strength that came from the thousands of prayers being said for Mike from California to Boston, from New York to Florida, from Puerto Rico to Australia, and everywhere in between, Mike chose to recommit himself to his Lord and Savior in July of 2005. And it was Eric (and God, of course), who we thanked—as well as all of those thousands who had been praying— because we truly believe that God directed Eric to Mike's front door and to Mike's heart, in answer to those many, many prayers. This was truly the happiest, most glorious day through this whole journey. Thank you, God, thank you Eric, and thank you to all who prayed so much for this beautiful miracle.