grace

 Hello.  I'm sure most of you know me, but for those that do not, I am Mike, Don and Judy's OTHER child.  I begin with this because levity was the rule of the day when relating to my sister, and anything else would not be fitting even in this most dire of circumstances.  For more years than I can remember, Shelly always referred to me as mom and dad's favorite.  I'm pretty sure the real reason behind this running joke was that the opposite was most likely true, and she KNEW it.  I do stand here before you as a strong second place, and I'm OK with that.

Some of you may also know that I have been designated "the writer in the family," mostly due to my mom insisting that I should have written for the school newspaper (she was right, sigh). Truthfully, I do love to write, and on the occasion I sit down to do so, I always seem to have the words.  My best ideas always come when I'm on the move...on a trail running or biking, on a mountain sliding down.  The words just flow for me, and all I have to do is remember them and put them down, usually in a run-on sentence that drives my teacher wife insane.

For this...I had no words.

I rode and ran and rode and ran and my brain came up with some pretty good ideas...but when I went to put them down...they all came off as rote and cheesy and typical and disingenuous...all things that I do NOT want to convey when it comes to my sister.  I was stuck for a long time. I simply could not quantify my sister with words.

Then, suddenly, I found it.  And I found it in MUSIC.

The song is called "Sunshower" by Chris Cornell, and it's been a favorite of mine for a long time, made so much more poignant by the sunshowers that occurred a couple days last week when the only thing on my mind was Shelly.  The lyric that hit me was..."I know all your graces, someday will flower."

Grace.

Not so much a word as a concept, an ideal...a way of living your life.  

And she was absolutely grace.  

Grace is knowing you have this ridiculous level of talent, but never showing it off.  

Grace is being a wife and mother and making it look so easy.  

Grace is something that is often attributed to good times, but is equally poignant and prevalent in bad.  

Grace is a flow in life, taking things in stride.  

Grace is joy, regardless of what is thrown your way.

My sister lived in grace.  

I would entreat everyone here today to carry her with you in your hearts, and live your life as she did.  Keep her legacy alive by simply being a good person, because Shelly was the best person.

Shel...I love you forever.  I know all your graces, someday will flower.

How 2023 turned us inside out

 It started inauspiciously enough...a fun ski/snowboard weekend at Copper Mountain with the Clark family.  There was great snow, somebody wet Abe's bed, and we had a wonderful time, as we should given our position in life...late 40s and looking at putting work and fiduciary responsibility in the rearview mirror and just setting the cruise to ENJOY.

But 2023 went off the rails.

Winter continued with typical M and M good times...plenty of good days at Loveland with the Jamocs crew and Garrick, Gretchen, Talia and Emma.  Snowmobiling in the Northwoods was sparse due to a late start for winter, but we managed 3 trips, staying at The Pointe twice, then up in Wakefield, MI for a last trip where Michelle killed her beloved Viper.  Fortunately, we had ski/board gear and finished out the weekend at Snow River Resort.  My purchase of a Ski Doo Blizzard 600R was made prescient by this breakdown...and I got one more trip out of the last throes of winter in WI with a run up north with Mike Stroud.

As winter transitioned into spring, trips to CO seemed to lessen the seasonal-affective disorder that usually accompanies that time of year...plus I was looking forward to my BIG TRIP...heli-boarding in Alaska with Kyle.  Lost one day at Alyeska due to a flight cancelation, and lost one day of the heli trip due to weather, but still had an experience akin to punching the face of God while sliding downslope in the vastness of untouched mountains.  It was raw emotion in physical form.  It was way more than it should have been...because of what happened next.

Celebrated the end of a long winter with my first banked slalom comp at Loveland (I sucked), and talking to my sister on her birthday on May 6 while in my happy place on a mountain.

Hard to believe right now that she wouldn't talk to me until that birthday convo...and wouldn't see me until weeks after that.  I knew in my heart it was bad.  Since the day she told me last October I knew it was bad.  The weight in my chest never went away...and I don't think it ever will.  She met me for lunch...we talked for three hours.  And never once did she alude to the idea that this was the end.  I knew...and at the same time...I couldn't figure it out.

Dinner with my dad was the "revelation."  He told me it was over.  I didn't want to believe.  In retrospect...I was an idiot holding out hope.

It was a Tuesday when I got the call that she was going on hospice.  I was at work.  I shut the door and cried my eyes out.  The question then was the same as it is now...HOW?  And then things got worse.

Friday night, after a day preparing for Shelly to come home...taking Nick and Meg shopping for everything she could possibly want or need...we got the call that Michelle's mom was going to the ER.  The next week was a horrorshow.  Hospice and hospital.  A dying sister and a mom with a questionable future.  Life in a vortex.

I told Michelle on Wednesday that the end would come on Friday.  The call came at 4:15am on Friday.  She left us at 5:55.  I will spend the rest of my life saying "HOW ARE YOU NOT HERE????"  The pain of missing her is about 1/2 the amount of pain from watching my parents have their hearts broken.

We can't dwell on it though, because Michelle's parents need us.  Dolores comes home from the hospital, and we set them up with long-term care.

Oh yeah...its our 25th Anniversary...we go to Indiana, mountain bike, see Mellencamp in concert, and go boating out of Michigan City with Stroud...meeting Kat and Badger and crew.

We took Nick mountain biking.  We took my parents out on the boat to the city.  And then we got the hell out of Illinois.

Summer in Colorado.  Made the best of my birthday riding Buff Creek and hanging in the river having cocktails and fighting back tears.  Talia's 16th birthday...and she got a kick-ass Jeep.  Home for 3 days, then back out and Michelle came home for 4.  Then back to CO for her, and back home for me.  She climbed Mt Princeton, I road-tripped to northern MI to hang with Cory and then Keith and Marcy.  I raced the Palos Meltdown and my parents came to watch.

August trip to CO with Nick and Meagan was EXCELLENT.  Hiked 3 Sisters and got caught in a storm, saw king deer and emperor elk, drove up Mt. Blue Sky in a cloud, and enjoyed Slightly Stoopid at Red Rocks in a different kind of cloud.  Rode the last stage of Breck Epic with Vota, then we had an awesome end-of-Sommer ride here in Evergreen with EVERYONE.

Labor Day at KY Lake.  Some boating back home.  Sept trip to CO, Buff Creek w/Gags and Julie.

Oct trip to CO with my parents.  Georgetown and Guanella Pass leaf-peeping, Emma's birthday, and took the Don mountain biking at Waterton Canyon.

ANOTHER C6P, ANOTHER Black Friday...bike highlights of the fall.  Visited Phil Graf and Co at their IN joint, saw the Graf clan for Turkey Day.  We determine once again that Michelle can pull the plug on work.

Nick turned 18, then there was the Christmas that largely sucked because there was no way it was going to be good.

Our drive to CO was interrupted by a stupid blizzard, and we spent an unwanted amount of time in North Platte, NE.  Cats didn't like it either.  Hell week at Loveland was OK, but badly needing snow, just like the Midwest.

We were in bad by 8:30 pm Mountain time on NYE, after a nice day of hiking South Valley with Mark and Tiff during the day...had to be ready for a day on the mountain on January 1.

I feel like I've been carved out.  Next year will be better.