years have passed since Michael left us; since the unthinkable happened, and still
it takes a real effort to accept the fact that he is gone.
No matter how much we learn about depression, there is no way we can understand
or feel the awful torture and despair sufferers from this insidious affliction have
to face. All we can do now is remember the good times we shared with Michael. And
the precious memories are many - Michael as a happy, smiling toddler; as an
Elementary School student, who in the word of one of his teachers, of so many years
ago, is still remembered as "bright, well-mannered, soft spoken" and,
of course, his achievements and excellent record during his University years. He
accomplished much in his short lifetime, had many friends and was well-liked and
respected by his co-workers. Probably his quiet, wry sense of humor had a lot to
do with that.
As so often happens memories of happy incidents pop into one's mind. On one of
my recent walks I noticed dandelions blooming in a profusion of gold. That sight
brought back a picture of little Mike (probably three or four) clutching a bouquet
of dandelions, a gift for his grandma. I couldn't resist picking a few and leaving t
hem on his memorial bench in the park.
I miss you Michael.
Paddy Miller | Mary Kirk | Alison Miller | Paddy MacLean
Susan MacLean | David Bigsby | Ken Bauer
Kathryn MacLean | Doug Richardson | Joan Skillings