Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Rembering Mike.

My brother Mike would have turned 35 yesterday, an occasion that we commemorated by visiting the cemetery and then taking NaiNai and YeYe for a nice walk among some fall foliage.

CJ of course charmed the weather into cooperating, and brightened what could have been a gloomy day.

It’s hard to believe that he passed away more than six months ago. So much has taken place since then, but the passage of time is always accelerated when you have a little one at home.

In some ways, we are at a crossroads. As CJ grows, the size of our one bedroom apartment seems to dwindle daily, and the looming question of where to live next tosses out more questions – do we buy a house? can we buy one in the NYC area? and if we leave, what does that entail?

But every day you face decisions that could impact your life and your family’s life. The worst thing in life is to avoid making these decisions, to become too timid to chart your path and be content with letting the wind blow you where it will.

One of the many things I admire about Mike is that he always dreamed big, and always tried to follow through on his dreams. Even after being laid low by the peritonitis whose complications eventually killed him, he continued pushing his dreams and secured his graduate degree. He had the audacity to look for a job even while trying to figure out how to get nourishment when his digestive system failed.

Can you imagine going on a job interview when you have no idea when you will be able to eat solid food again?

I need to start living like that. The stakes for me, with a little daughter, are certainly high. But to not live life to its fullest, to not chase your potential come what may, is to not live. I think that is one of the most important lessons I have learned from my brother.

I only wish that the lesson hadn’t come at such a high price.

-- Dan

(photos from yesterday, and the weekend, to come eventually)

2 comments:

John Klotz said...

Love you. Thanks for being you.

Dad (YeYe)

Greg said...

I remember Mike. With tears in my eyes, I read your thoughts, echo them, and respect you all the more.
Love, Greg