I can’t believe Michael’s gone. I remember his laugh, and the way his teeth protruded slightly, like they couldn’t wait to jump out of his mouth and show you their smile.
Everything about Michael was about moving forward. His body, his beautiful round belly, was a jubilant exclamation, “Here I am!” and his heart, you could almost see it, shone out of his ribcage like a small sun.
When Michael hugged you, he held you close, as though nothing else was
more important, and in that moment, nothing was. I remember he taught
me once how to hug. He said that in the Amazon, people hug right arm
over left (or was it left over right?) so two hearts could connect most
intimately. It doesn’t
matter now, the precise positioning of
bodies—the point is, Michael was a student and a teacher of love. He
embodied it, emboldened it, and grew it exponentially within anyone he
touched.
I met Michael when I was around eleven years old. I thought of him as my spiritual uncle, as I’ve never had much interest in literal genealogies or blood lines. He took me seriously when I was a kid, which adults rarely do, and interviewed me and my friends about things like world peace and nuclear
disarmament, which was the national scare topic of the time.
Michael loved children because he was one. He thought about things deeply and quizzically, the way children do, and he wasn’t afraid of questions. He was also a bear. He loved the sensory world: food, and sun or snow on his skin, and tumbling around like a cub with whomever was up for a wrestle.
When Michael married my aunt Juli (another feat of my genealogical gymnastics), I knew he had found a new kind of home inside himself. Ever the alchemist, Michael morphed his wild and tender natures into something singularly elegant. I watched the way he loved Juli with a sparkle and a flash in his eyes along with a deep respect in his soul, and they elevated one another to a truer safety, a deeper knowing and connection to each other and the world.
I miss Michael the way one misses Spring, and promise, and all that new growth and pushing forth. He was always about moving forward though, being the first to say an exuberant “Yes!” and so he’s done that again. He’s gone first, moved forward, into a new adventure. I am sure, with Michael, he’s gone forth into love.
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