Cancer is an unfortunate part of life.
And although the human body is something of a miracle, there are times when it inevitably gives way.
And so Michael died.
Far too young.
On ski trips from years gone by we used to call him ‘Kamikaze Man’. Michael didn’t do fear.
In more recent times the advent of fatherhood clipped his wings somewhat, saw him soften his skiing cough considerably and he adopted a more responsible approach on the slopes.
‘Kamikaze Man’ became ‘The Magnet Man’ as Michael stuck like glue to the tail end of his guides skis.
Me and him also shared a love of music. I got him started on clarinet, he got me going on harmonica.
We had many a practice session together in my apartment. He had a better musical ear than me, memorably so when we were learning the tune ‘Down by the Sally Gardens’, on clarinet.
I made the mistake of questioning his ear on one particular note.
Silly me.
We live in strange times these days. It’s a particularly strange time to experience loss, even though it is all around.
And so Michael, it will take us all a bit of time before we gather to celebrate you.
But rest assured, we will all do that.
Blind light 
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