I'm still not very strong.
Chris is. I know why he is, too. Since Chris was in middle school, Chris had someone in his life with unwaivering faith. Chris had Mike.
Mike passed away in an accident last Friday. It is something that has rocked us to our core. We are a pretty close knit group, it was always the six of us. Chris, me, Cristina, Patrick, Serina, and Mike. Jimmy was a pretty big part of things too, but from the day I met Chris there was always a core group. I met them all when they were just teenagers. But Mike was always special. You could tell from the first time you met him there was this light that emanated from him.
He was a genuinely good person. Had unwavering morals. A brilliant man with complete faith in God. Mike really sought to help people, which is why he was there, in Hawaii, where he had the accident.
Mike was only supposed to be there two years. Teaching kids from a school that didn't have much. When his two years were up? Mike stayed. He felt like he had more to do there. More kids to help. He and I spoke about it over Christmas break, and he said he was going to be there for a long time. That he was finding his way there, that he was happy. A selfish part of me wanted Mike to come back, but I was glad that he was so happy.
Chris loves Mike...Mike is his best friend. Since they were in eighth grade, it was always the three of them. Chris, Patrick, and Mike. Even after Mike left for college, they always talked. Chris drove out to Notre Dame to see him. When Mike moved to Hawaii, things didn't change. Chris hates phones, but he would go on long walks on his lunch break to talk to Mike, who was just getting up for the day. I know that Mike played a huge part in Chris regaining his faith. Whenever Mike was here, Chris would just be fully happy.
We've all gotten pretty scattered. We are all adults now, busy people with alot going on. But whenever Mike was here, we would all just be together and it was like not a thing had changed. Mike would come home twice a year, and I would usually start asking Chris or Mike himself when he was getting in at least a month in advance.
As much as Mike loved his friends and wanted to see them when he was here, his number one priority was being with his family. As a person who came from a family that was nothing like that at all, I found this particularly admirable. Mike's love for his parents and his brothers was something I had not seen before.
Mike's devotion to his family and his faith I know is a main factor in Chris choosing him to be a godfather to our boys.
Mike was my friend. A good friend. Someone I have always seen as special, someone I always held a special place for. I may not have known him as well as Chris or Patrick did, but he is a part of me. And on Saturday, when Chris got the final word, that Mike was gone...I didn't know what to do. I still don't. I am having a terrible time accepting this. I know it is hard, and it will take time. I cry often. I think of Mike all the time. But I know God will help me through this.
One of my biggest fears when I heard about Mike is that he suffered. If there is someone who did not deserve to suffer, it was Mike. Very early Sunday morning, after having a conversation with Serina, I was reading Hawaiian newspaper articles about Mike, and found one with a timeline. When he was found, and when they actually pronounced him dead. In my half delirious state, I started freaking out, wondering why there was such a gap. Did they find him alive? I actually emailed the writer of the story and asked. The man later emailed me, asking me to call him. After discussing it with Chris, I did. The man told me that Mike was gone when they found him. The reason it took so long was that they had to get him on the helicopter lift, down the mountain, and to the hospital before he could be pronounced. He said the EMTs on scene were confident that Mike was gone as soon as he hit the bottom. The man said that he was writing a story about Mike, and did not want to bother his parents, so he was asking friends about him. All the people he knew to ask were Hawaiian, so he wanted to ask us, people who had known Mike a long time, about him. I gave the phone to Chris, because I didn't want to say the wrong thing. I feel funny enough knowing that out of everything I myself said, the saddest thing I said is the one he used. "He was a beautiful soul and we miss him so much." It's entirely true, but it still feels odd to me. I don't want to disrespect Mike's family, his memory. I didn't want to say the wrong thing. So I let Chris talk to him. I felt ok with that. The man wrote a fantastic article, and I was thankful that we were able to help say who Mike was.
There is a reason I tell that story.
Later Sunday night, I was feeling particularly down, and I was writing Mike a letter. (Crazy girl, writing letters to the dead!) While I was writing, my phone rang. It was the writer. He said that he had talked to a few people, did a bit more 'digging', and found out that Mike had actually been found Friday night. He was found by rescue workers on foot, but they could not get him out due to the weather and darkness. When they went out again Saturday morning to look for him, it was a retrieval, not a search and rescue. So my fear that Mike was laying there all night until he finally passed on was a bit less. He told me to tell Mike's family, so they knew...but I couldn't do it. I had always wanted to meet them, but never had the chance. I told Chris, who said he would tell them.
I felt like he called me because God knew what was causing me pain. Or maybe it was Mike. Or both even. I don't know.
I went to bed very late....5 am or so. (Does that venture more into early than late?) Chris had said something earlier that night that stuck with me...that it would have taken Mike about 8 -12 seconds to fall. Only Chris, right? Doesn't seem that long...but count to twelve. Around 630 am, the house phone rang, waking me up. I laid there and waited for it to stop. It did, no message was left. Normally I would just go back to sleep, but I got up. Guess i wanted to see who it was. I knew the phone was in the kitchen, but instead I went to the living room. Opened the computer, went to Mike's facebook....where minutes before, the friend Mike was with when he passed had posted the story of their hike. The story where he said that Mike was knocked unconscious within 15 feet of falling...that he did not suffer at all. God knew what was happening and took Mike so he wouldn't have to go through it.
When Chris got up that morning, I said, very simply, "Mike called."
That's how it felt to me. God knew that I was still wondering. That call from random person (I saw the caller ID, i have zero clue who it was) was divine.
Knowing Mike didn't suffer did help lift a weight from my soul.
I've been doing alot of reading in my Bible. Chris and I actually sat here for a while yesterday and discussed death, what happens to us. If there is anyone who deserves Heaven, it is Mike. We read different passages, I found various articles online. Last night before I went to sleep, I spent a long time reading more. I feel drawn to it.
I can sleep now. I'm afraid of dreaming, and I'm afraid of having to lay there and wait for sleep to come. But the two nights I have managed to sleep, neither has happened, which I am thankful for. Eating still isn't working out so well. Food makes me ill.
I'm crying less. I have to be strong, for my kids. Them seeing me so broken was affecting them. I'm careful now to just break when they aren't around.
But there are times when it all just hits me. He's never coming back.
And it starts all over again.
Oh, P, this is so beautifully written! First off, you're not crazy. I sat and wrote Phil a couple of letters after he died as well. I think it helps and I HOPE, somehow, somewhere, they can read the letters. I'm so, so glad that Mike didn't have to suffer. I did sit here and count to 12, and I was relieved to see that he was knocked unconscious so he didn't have to live through that. I ♥ you!
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