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In Loving Memory
Life o' Mike has participated two memorial services to remember those who have died from our broken health care system, one in Asheville and one in Raleigh.
If you would like to organize more of these services, please contact lifeomike@gmail.com and we will help put it together.
The services include stories, prayers and information on how people of faith can make a difference.
About 45,000 people die each year because they don’t have health insurance, according to a recent study by Harvard Medical School and published in the Journal of the American Medical Association. That breaks down to one American every 12 minutes.
Those people can be honored in the service by a bell chime and a moment of silence every 12 minutes in the service.
For more information, call Leslie Boyd at 828-243-6712.
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Mike is my uncle. He was loved by so many people. I dont think he ever knew but he was a hero to me. He got sober and made me proud.I know that he loved his life and the people in it. He taught me something that I will live by for the rest of my life, the true meaning of live life like there is no tomorrow. I still don’t fully understand how he meant celbrate his life.I miss him more then anything.I wish every single day that I could have spent more time with him and have gotten closer. I’ve seen how devastated my dad was and it made me realize no matter how much me and my sister argue anything could happen and we could loke eachother. I know he enjoyed his life, even the day he died. I remember walking into the room he was in and seeing him and seeing that he looked like he was really dying, just skin and bones, no fat, no nothing. I’m gonna miss him so much but I know he is in a better place with people and watching over me.
He was always amazed by your kind and gentle spirit. I have to work to remember him before he was sick, too, but those memories will come back to us in time.
I feel so blessed to have known Mike and to have had him in my life, even though is wasn’t for very long. I have a younger sister, but I had always wished that I had a fun older brother, and I got that when Mike moved in across the street. He was witty and sarcastic but had such a great sense of humor and was disgustingly smart. Some of my favorite times in Savannah was sitting on Mike and Janet’s front porch and just being. There was laughter, there were tears because of laughter, there were some serious moments, there was honesty, but my favorite was the good conversations we all always had.
I lived alone for my final quarter at SCAD (roomie went to France), and a few days after she had left, I got a knock at my door and there was Mike, in his flannel PJs. He had come over to chat and to see how I was doing with Becca being gone, and then he, Janet and I spent the afternoon just talking (and me not doing homework). He was the only person willing to play Monopoly with me- it’s my favorite game and no one ever wanted to play! But he did, and we used his Star Wars (or Trek) game board…yeah he won. It was really weird not seeing Mike and Janet on their front stoop after they moved. One time Becca and I had gotten a wee tipsy and decided that we wanted to hang out with them, but instead of ringing the doorbell and asking them to come chat, we plopped ourselves on the front stoop and waited. Their faces were priceless when they saw two slightly drunk girls on their property.
I really do have a lot of great memories of Mike and I’m holding onto them for dear life. I miss him so much. I feel fortunate too, because when I did finally meet him, things were on the upswing as far as his cancer treatments were going, and while he was tired he always had a positive attitude. He and I even talked about having our own house flipping business in North Carolina- he was so proud to have a tool chest full of big burly man tools and loved doing the carpentry work that he did when he was able to stop using the nephrostomy tube for that short time.
He will always be one of my favorite people.
Sometimes, things remind me of a Mike story. I had an e-mail this morning asking about the “crazy vacation.”
That was in April 1990. My father had died in January and we wanted to do something in memory of him as spring began to break.
Daddy used to say that the best months of the year are the ones little girls are named for — April, May and June. So, we scheduled a 3-day vacation over Easter weekend to do a whale watch because Daddy had loved the ocean and he loved P’town.
We were quite the rowdy gang — me, Mike, his favorite cousin, Shannon, my stepmother, Barbara, and my friend, Nancy Cacioppo. We all stayed in one hotel room with two double beds and a cot.
We sang at the drop of a hat. Literally. One of us would drop a hat and we’d all burst into song:
“We’re on vacation, we’re on vacation
And we won’t go home ’til our money is all gone!”
Mike was really into it until there was a pretty girl at the next table who was making eyes at him. Then, all of a sudden, he was Mr. Sophisticated.
At dinner that night, we were a little more subdued until the nice looking waiter started making eyes at Mike. Then he wanted to be obnoxious.
The whale watch was wonderful. As we got on the boat, Mike said, “I’ll know Grandpa’s spirit is happy if we see whales.”
We sailed and sailed until the captain was about to turn back and suddenly there were three whales right beside the boat, observing us as much as we were observing them. It was remarkable. Then on the way back in, two more humpbacks came up to the boat.
The next morning, as we were leaving, Barbara wanted to take a walk on race Point Beach, where she and my father had srtrolled so many times. As she walked, two whaled frolicked off the beach.
We watched for awhile and as we left the beach, Mike whispered, “Goodbye, Grandpa.”
That crazy vacation was one of the high points of all our lives.