Michael was drawn to the light. We are drawn to the light. For some of us it is meditation, for some a bar, a movie, a gathering of sparkling beings we name human beings. We know that we are visitors on this planet we name earth; we know that it is a brief candle that flickers, a moving shadow. (Shakespeare had the words.)
We remember Michael in a myriad of ways. His great joy in hearing the blue birds, in throwing an empty corn cob out from the porch, in finding the perfect mixture of flavors in the saute, in sending a funny email or ordering live worms for his bluebirds. He touches us with an intimacy that brings a tear.
We have walked through the fear, we have tasted it. For months Jim has been awake at 4 am, thinking, What about my brother? What is to be done? For months Kris has kept alive the hope that an answer, a solution must be uncovered, My Mikey, don't you know how much we love you?
In order to kiss this life goodbye, Michael had to believe that We Will Be OK. He will pass, We Will Be OK. We have each other. We having amazing support from neighbors, family, work communities, friends-from-afar and closeby. What is real is unseen.
Light a candle for us all, for like-it-or-not we will be experiencing this thing we call death. It is a comfort to believe that one's essence is eternal, that energy is neither created nor destroyed. We feel this presence that abides; that is enough.