My dear Michael,
You are a man of so many talents, there was little you couldn’t do–if you didn’t know how you just did it anyway.
You were that way even as a young child. I remember when I took you skiing when you were 5 years old. You just headed straight down the hill. It didn’t matter how many times you fell and banged yourself up, you just got right back up and tried it again. Before long you were waving at me as you sailed past. Then it was on to more challenging slopes.
It was the same way when you got your first bike. You marched into the house to get some tools so you could remove the training wheels. You fell off and crashed into things until you had learned how to do it.
I think it was the same with your busineses, whatever task you had you just figured it out. If you were prop master you somehow knew where to find the right props and if you couldn’t, you created them. It was the same with your re-habs. You would fearlessley knock down a wall or tear off a roof and figure out how to put it all back together.
You are a musician. You first learned to play the violin by the Suzuki method. Then you took piano lessons. After that you taught yourself the guitar and other instruments. You loved music and it was always an important part of your life.
You are an awesome cook. I don’t know where you learned that, unfortunately not from me. One time when you were still quite young you asked me if we could have sometthing for dinner, like maybe from a cookbook! You never needed one.
When I would ask what you were making for dinner your answer was always, “I don’t know yet”. Then dozens of ingredients would start coming out of the refrigerator and from the garden, often with the help of your best harvester, Marley. That was followed by wild chopping and dicing, and one heck of a mess…but the food that came to the table was well worth it–even the clean up.
Along with your many gifts, you are also a man of extremely strong opinions. There was nothing middle of the road about you. We had many heated discussions and often had to just agree that we would never agree. We would both try to hold our tongues and not get in the last word, an almost impossible task for either one of us.
But, of all your talents, I believe your finest role was as a father. Your patience and gentleness, so uncharacteristic of you in some other ways, was always available for your beloved children. I will always remember years ago when I was especially eager to be a grandmother, I told you that if you had a child you would love him or her a 1000 times more than your dogs. You looked at me with total disbelief, not able to even imagine such a concept.
After Marley was born you said to me, “Mom, you were so right”! And your wonder just grew with the arrival of Avery.
Michael, you are in our hearts for always. I hope that when you crossed over to the dimension that you always claimed was just 3 feet above us, that your dear sister, Becky, opened her arms to embrace you. You two will be together waiting for us all to be reunited.
Most of all my dear son, I hope you find peace, that which you could never find in this world.
With love for always, Mom