A friends dad passed away from cancer on the 19th. His name was Mike. Years ago, my friend and I worked for Mike as painters and we were all members of a painters union.
When I attended the service, the pastor remarked that when she met Mike, he had signed the guestbook as Joe, but told her “Call me Mike.” Her thoughts on it were that he was an exceptionally clear-headed man who knew exactly who he was and was comfortable and knowledgeable of himself to sign with one name and introduce with another.
I can tell you that her perception of Mike’s character was spot on. Mike was level-headed, kind, generous, and commanded respect. He was a Navy man and served six years as a SEAL. I worked with him only a short time, but when ever I visited his son, Mike always had a smile on his face. That smile was there even when his wife had suffered a stroke that eventually proved fatal.
As you can probably tell, I had great admiration for Mike. He taught me a lot without meaning to. Or maybe he did and it took, who knows for sure? I’m betting Mike does.
How fortunate I am to have known Mike. My life is richer for the experience.
Thanks, Mike. You’ll be missed.