Mike was my cousin. What I know about him is what I remember from my childhood. Summer visits to the "farm"... big, old, rambling Victorian farmhouse... horses, dogs, 6 kids (8 if you include me and my sister). Kick the can games on the front lawn in the summer twilight, fireflies blinking, the grown-ups on the porch. Mike was something like those fireflies. He was the sudden spark of light, of energy, of reckless boyish bravado. Mike, as I remember him (most vividly, I guess, around the age of 14 or so), could be the most exasperating of tormentors (especially to a couple of 10 and 11 year old girls) but he was also absolutely impossible not to love. There was something special about Mike, and everyone who came in contact with him knew it and felt it. He was a die-hard Springsteen fan, rough-and-tumble kind of kid who played hockey and rode dirt bikes. He lived and loved and laughed hard and always at full tilt. His charm and his raw exuberance for life and adventure and other people were evident even at the age of 13 or 14. I'm told he matured into the best kind of man. A good and devoted husband and father, hard worker, generous to a fault, devout and faithful to his church, fiercely loyal to friends and family. None of that surprises me. Michael, your light will continue to shine in the myriad of hearts of all of those whom you touched in this life.