Mike met my mom in a bar in 1984 after she had been injured at work and abandoned by my father. I was five at the time and my mom was handicap and raising my sister and I. Mike was an unlikely candidate to make any positive contribution to my life. He was a six and a half foot tall single dad with a perm.
I was asked on more than one occasion if my new dad was s professional wrestler. Despite his abnormally large hair and our abnormally dysfunctional family. Mike married my mother thus accepting the task of raising my sister and me. I have to admit I wasn’t a fan of the marriage for the first decade or so nor was I the poster child for adolescent family blending.
I once locking my new dad out of the house while I stood on the other side of the glass door laughing. I screamed hatred at him, said hurtful things and pushed the limits in every imaginable way.
This stranger was the first to take a big chance on a crippled lady and her impossible son. He became our provider when we could not provide for ourselves, he became our protector when we couldn’t protect ourselves and he endured hell to do it. He, by the Grace of God, built a loving family out of a thousand broke pieces.
I have learned from mike the power of consistency and endurance. He was not a model father, and would be the first to admit it. He was and is, though, brave and faithful. Today this man I once despised is my closest friend.