Michael

Early this morning MB called to tell me that her brother-in-law, Michael, had died. It was unexpected. It is a tragedy. I did not know Michael well personally. But I felt I knew him from the stories MB would tell me about him. And I know the people he loved and who loved him. And because of that I feel I do know him. I do not have all of his pertinent facts, but this is my impression of him.

Michael was a big man, with reddish blond hair, glasses, a big heart and a wicked sense of humor. I don't know why I think of him as a jokester-perhaps because most of the stories I heard about him made me laugh. Michael was a family man. He married young and had three beautiful daughters. His second daughter died within a few days after birth. I didn't know him then. But I know his two other daughters, H and J. In fact, I remember when J was born because I was in living in Versailles with her Aunt M. If I remember correctly, J may have been a bit of a late arrival--because we were anticipating her birth. Today J is pregnant with her second child and mourning the loss of her father.

Michael was a farmer--a tough way to make a living--but he was rugged and came from a family of farmers. Three years ago he built a new house for his wife. It was during that construction that he fell off of a ladder and was seriously injured. It was within weeks after his father-in-law died. Through bad breaks and possibly some medical mistakes he became very ill and spent a very long time in ICU. They weren't sure at the time if he was going to live, but he pulled through. Last night he asked his wife to take him to the hospital because he knew something was wrong, seriously wrong it turns out. After going to the local hospital, his wife insisted they take him to the regional referral center where he had been treated before. He died within hours of reaching the hospital. They were just getting ready to move him to ICU when he coded. The medical personnel had asked his family to step out of the room so they could prep him to move when he arrested. They couldn't bring him back. Perhaps he knew what he was in for and couldn't face it again--probably not for himself but for his family--and he chose to leave while they were out of the room. But whatever the circumstances, he is not going to have to face the ordeal again. But those who loved him must now come to terms with how to go on without him. My heart aches for them--his wife, his daughters, his granddaughters, his in-laws. They loved him and admired him. They held him up as a standard of the type of man to be, and to be proud of.

Yesterday morning at this time was a normal day for everyone. No one could dream that 24 hours later they would be cast into the depths of shock and grief, trying to comprehend the incomprehensible. Today was supposed to be a Saturday like every other Saturday. It was not supposed to be a day to think about losing a husband, a father, a grandfather, a brother-in-law. It was not supposed to be a day to plan a funeral. It was not supposed to be a day when one had to start to contemplate living a life without the partner that you had spent your life with, to contemplate living a life without a father who should see his grandchildren grow up and have great grandchildren. It was not supposed to be a day to have to deal with the unthinkable. Today was not supposed to be that day.