This has not been a date that I have looked forward to. To summarize briefly for those who do not know, last year on July 24 I attended my high school reunion in New York. That very night my brother was asked by our parents why he never attended HIS reunions. In a characteristically modest fashion my brother answered that it was because he had not accomplished anything, while his brother, Jim, had. This alone was irony enough in that he had that backwards.
Mike was the two-time cancer survivor, with the first cancer being a typically inoperable astrocytoma at the base of the cerebellum. Mike was the paraplegic who willed himself through college when he should have been in physical rehabilitation, and Mike was the one who made it into the Georgetown Law Center, the third most competitive law school in the U.S.A. at the time (it may still be, for all I know). Mike went on to work with Ralph Nader and then an agency called Endependence (a group that searches for careers for the handicapped) until he suffered a cerebral aneurysm on the way to a sign language class. Mike survived even that and went on to work for AARP. Way beyond that I must add that Mike had a delightful and warm soul. He looked for and found the best in people.
What are MY accomplishments? Well, they amount to several jobs at which I performed reasonably well, two failed marriages, and becoming an overnight success in college after some twenty-five years. Clearly Mike was modest to a fault.
Rightfully and thankfully my parents set the record straight for Mike (with additional thanks to them for not mentioning MY shortfalls). Mike went to bed that night feeling justifiably good about himself and for this, among many other things, I am immeasurably grateful because Mike never woke up the next morning. Michael suffered a catastrophic stroke at some point during the night while I was away having a great time with old friends. I was not there to save the person who had saved my life so many years ago. I know I couldn’t have stopped his death, but I’m still dealing with the fact that I was not there.
Later that day I was finally able to retrieve my messages and heard only that Mike was very sick, in the hospital, and asking for me (a white lie my parents told so that I wouldn’t be flipping out while driving from New York back to Virginia). I got to the hospital the next day and learned that Mike was brain dead and that they’d been waiting for me to get back before taking him off of life support.
One year ago this day, July 27, at 3:50 PM they disconnected Mike’s respirator. As we stayed by his side I couldn’t believe the nightmare. After all Mike had been through I had taken it for granted that he would ALWAYS survive. I still can’t believe that someone so strong as my Gentle Giant could slip away from us. I rested my head on his shoulder. At 6:00 PM Mike exhaled his last breath.
So, for the last year there certainly have been ups and downs, but the last few days in particular have been poignant and even surreal. Mom fell yesterday and broke her right foot and her left knee has a hairline fracture, and today I finally received a job offer from a company for which I’ll truly enjoy working. If somebody is trying to tell me something I’m not sure what it is.
One thing that I know for sure is that I want to do something. What? I could list all of Mike’s accomplishments – there are far more than those I have listed. I could wallow in my sadness over his loss. I could allow that sense of guilt to overcome and smother me in that dark night. It came to me this morning in the time of half-sleep. It was at once a moment of fogginess and total clarity. What would Michael want? He'd want us to laugh. Not just a snicker, but a really good laugh. So in honor of my brother I'd like to give you something that made HIM laugh. Corny, maybe, but true to his good nature. Enjoy.
