My son, Mike Funk, would have been 38 yesterday. I miss him. Mike had a hard young life and came into our lives wounded with spirit, charisma, determination, and wackiness. The terminal diagnosis came shortly after finding love in his life. So thrilling, so sad. I’ve been blessed with an appreciation and curiosity about death and dying, so we explored the mysterious adventure together for almost a year. Breath taking stuff. Yes, he suffered from pain and grief watching his carefully cultivated physique melt into a prednisone balloon. He was disappointed that he’d never have kids. He never said, why me? Rather, I wasn’t born with a tattoo on my ass telling me how long I’d live. Lord, I miss that guy! Monster hugs, prodded me into the music world, If you want to be a musician,you gotta play.
Mike shared his soul with us, still shares his soul with us. Bittersweet, bittersweet. To get a taste of someone’s soul, you need an open, receptive heart. The challenge of an open heart is that anything/everything passes through-the joy, lust, humor, pain, fear, disappointment. Not just of the moment, but of all stored history. Scary and exhilarating. Oh, Mike, we feel it all, we love you.
Grief is an inevitable lever of health.
Amen. Tx Sue
thanks you for this today Danny. Recent loss of an aunt –the last of her generation to go has reminded me of the need to grieve together with family (and friends)–and how restorative it is to let the grief flow through us.
thanks Kathy. Today was Leon Michael’s 6th birthday. He well knows his uncle Mike . Mike would have loved his nephews.
Dear Danny, I’ll never forget how you, Ann and the boys opened your hearts and home to Mike. He became one of your own and blossomed. In turn, he blessed you all. This tribute is a loving tribute to a beautiful young man and the family who loved him. Breathtaking. Love and hugs to you all.
Kathy