Aristotle died long before this man lived...PKW

...but his words of philosophy and wisdom must surely have been written for this exact moment in time...this exact day...

The beauty of the soul shines out when a man bears with composure one heavy mischance after another, not because he does not feel them, but because he is a man of high and heroic temper” Aristotle

At Christmas I shared this story with you...It was entitled "Can I Show you Christmas?" and I'd like to share it again with you now if that's OK.

Technically her name is Riley, and she is our middle Granddaughter. Our dreamy, sweet, heart-driven, lovely Riley who is six years old. And who has one of the kindest hearts I've ever been around. Although she is wearing a pink and white dress and is holding a puppy in this photo, that's not why she is Christmas.

She is Christmas because of this drawing. And many others like it. Espcially because of who she has been drawing them for.

But I think for me it is this drawing in specific that whispers Christmas into every particle of my being. May I tell you about this picture?

This picture is drawn for a wonderful man who is suffering from so many awful things it would take me an hour to tell his tale. He is the son of one of the most loving friends I have.

This picture was drawn at Riley's own initiative. When she saw an envelope on my desk and asked who it was for and I told her "Mike" she immediately ran for the colored pencils.

This picture was drawn with two legs because Mike has had one amputated and Riley says he wants to see himself the way "his heart wants him to be."

This picture was drawn with the two of them getting onto an airplane because Mike goes back and forth between bedridden and the ICU unit at the hospital and Riley says he wants to see himself going on a trip. With her. To Disneyland.

One morning several weeks ago Riley was here in my office actually drawing a picture to send to Mike when my friend called to tell me her husband had suffered a stroke. All this in addition to dealing with the sadness and medical horrors that encompass every single moment of their life.

Riley listened to my conversation and then looked up at me to ask "Grandma, who is Bob?"

I replied "sweetie, that is Mike's Dad and he is very, very sick now, too."

And Riley said to me "oh boy, Grandma, I have a lot of drawing to do here."

And went to get another piece of paper.

Did I say that this picture whispers Merry Christmas to my soul.

It doesn't. It shouts "Merry Christmas!" to every atom that makes me who I am. It makes my heart swell with carols and pride and love and certainty.

Certainty that because this little girl exists there is still hope and love and joy and possibility and kindness in a world that sometimes feels otherwise.

And Mike, I hope this dream of walking sturdily and confidently onto an airplane to take a trip to somewhere wonderful soothes your soul and eases your pain for just a moment.

And Riley? Sweet, sweet girl.

Merry Christmas.

But that was at Christmas. And the story continues today.

Because this morning when our Granddaughters were here Riley made her first card for Mike. It was this Valentine. Just as Riley finished her card the house phone rang. I struggled to find it in the clutter on the table. Then my cell phone rang.

And it was Mike's brother saying Mike was gone. That he passed away peacefully this morning listening to his I-pod.

It's taken me the whole day just to actually take this out of the little place in my mind where I put things I don't want to know. You know that little locked-up place where you can put sad, bad things and hope they aren't real?

And even though I know on some level that Mike is whole again and getting off the plane with two sturdy legs to go to Disneyland I just don't want it to be true.

I used to think that what Mike did on a daily basis was heroic. You know? An ordinary hero. One of those people that seem to make all the bad things in our lives feel bearable.

And tonight I'm not totally sure what I think. My heart is so heavy for Mike's family...and in small, selfish way for me. It is his family that bears the sorrow of his passing and the true joy that he is free of pain and suffering finally. But somehow death always touches each of us...profoundly. And becomes personal. So please send your kind words and prayers to Mike's family.

Because this isn't really about me. Or Riley.

But Mike, just in case you're blogging up in Heaven, I want you to know that even though I mailed you silly card after silly card I never really came out and told you that I know Aristotle had you in mind, or someone as crazy brave as you when he wrote those words...

So, I'm going to say them to you just once more...

The beauty of the soul shines out when a man bears with composure one heavy mischance after another, not because he does not feel them, but because he is a man of high and heroic temper” Aristotle

Go in Peace, Mike.

Your going makes the world a sadder place. Because you weren't just an ordinary hero. You were amazing.

April 4, 1964 - February 7, 2010