Dear Mike

It's now been over one month that you've left us. It has taken me this long to be able to write about it. It's funny that two blogs ago ("Good Weekend")you were one of the good friends I was referring to that I spent time with the previous Saturday. I'm glad we got to hang out that one last time. We reminisced, we played darts, we had a few beers, we enjoyed ourselves. I got to shake your hand and give you the shoulder bump one time before you left. I feel good about that.

I'm not one for religion really, but I have to believe that you are in a better place right now. You're in a better place playing softball, poker, and breaking balls.

We go back 19 years when you sat by me in a few classes because our last names were close alphabetically. That was freshman year at St. Joe in August of 1990. Two 13 year olds with so much life ahead of us. We argued through high school, boy did we. Dice footballs games and arguments about prom logistics had one of us leaving the cafeteria table fuming on any given day from 1990-1994.

Then college years and thereafter came, we went to different schools, but still hung out. Tuesday and Thursdays during the semester at my house, just chilling, watching tv, listening to music, watching 'Friday', and calling girls. Then weekend nights rolled around before either of us were 21 and you could usually find us at Gilston park with beer we 'hey misterred', just waiting for police to drive by and shine their lights, making us run for dear life.

We thought we could sing too, remember 'harmonizing' in that park pavilion? We were trying to impress people around us, but I don't think anyone was really impressed. The pop song of the week was our street corner doo-wop at that park.

Man, what times.

Then we grew up... wives, kids, jobs, and we didn't hang out as much. But when we did, we picked up right back where we left off the last time we had hung out. The mood never changed between us, from ages 13-32. None of that awkward 'we haven't seen each other in a while let's make small talk because we don't have much in common anymore'. That never happened. No, we went right back to breaking balls like we were back at that St. Joe cafeteria table eating that Thursday stromboli that we coveted.

I stood up for you in your wedding, thanks for letting me be a part of it. Thank you for standing up in mine.

Your wife is a beautiful and strong woman. You did good there. We will see to it that she has support from us for the rest of her life. Your kids are gorgeous, and I know you will live on in them. Your son is already starting to get that long and straight hair that you had. Remember when you used to gel it over in high school and we'd bust your chops about it?

Oh yeah-we both know I grew up the heavier kid in school. Thank you for being the one friend of mine who even in a heated argument, never went there. That means more to me than you will ever know.

We had a great friendship, and I will never forget you.

Remember when we were 18 or 19 year olds who thought we had seen it all already? I used to discuss what my funeral would be like, and I told you if anything ever happened to me I wanted "I'll be missing you" by Puff Daddy to be played there.

The other night, before your wake, I went down to my stereo, played it and I cried, like I haven't ever cried before.

I will always be sad, but as time goes on the more I think about you the more I smile and laugh instead of cry, because I am remembering a great friendship. I don't know who I am going to call now every year on October 28th to say happy birthday to, but you can gaurantee not an October 28th will go by where I don't say that to you in my heart.

Yeah, 'that'll work'.

We will always remember you bro, and we will be chilling one day again soon.

"Until the day we meet again, in my heart is where I'll keep you friend..."

I love you brother.

Peace out Mike.