Condolence: From the St. Adalberts Service:

Even though I was Uncle Mike's Godson, living on the west coast in California for the past decade -- I didn't get to spend as much time with him as I had wanted to...

But I was fortunate enough to get to spend some time on the east coast last summer… my wife headed off to Europe for an extended business trip and some much needed R&R with some close friends -- so my 4-year-old daughter Gilian and I packed up our things and relocated here in Enfield for ten days.

I was so nervous about my first flight out as a solo parent that the day before the trip I got so frantic, I ended up dropping my mobile phone in the toilet -- luckily Best Buy was more than willing to help me purchase and activate a new smart phone just hours before we boarded the plane heading east.

* * * * *
Gilian and I did a bunch of different things out here last summer, spending quality time with family in ways we just aren't able to out where we live in California.

But there was one experience with Uncle Mike last summer that I will never forget…

One thing Mike really wanted to do when we were out visiting was to get an ice cream cone at the shop out near Bradley airport. And not just any ice cream cone -- it had to be a pistachio ice cream cone -- his favorite flavor, at his favorite local ice cream shop.

After we got our cones, we all sat at a picnic table on the hot summer evening -- me, my Dad, Aunt Dy, Uncle Mike & Gilian -- and caught up on different topics, like work and fun stuff... I had finished my cone, and having inherited the infamous Pohorylo "bladder of a twelve-year-old-girl" -- inevitably, I had to go to the bathroom. I walked over, but there was a line several people deep at the only bathroom at the ice cream shop, so in good Pohorylo fashion -- I struck out on my own to find a place, as Jadju would say, to "take a leak" in the woods.

* * * * *
Now, believe it or not -- I was so surprised by what a beautiful sight I found out there in those woods when I went out to, um, relieve myself -- that I went back to the picnic table to get Gilian to bring her out and show her.

By the time Gilian and I got back to the table, Uncle Mike and Aunt Dy were now both pretty interested what the heck we were doing, so Gilian said in a very cute voice -- "Come on, we'll show you…" and the group of us walked and motored through the gravel ice cream shop parking lot, out into the woods.

By now the sun had set a little bit further, and the entire wooded area was a little bit darker. And sure enough, the woods were still filled with fireflies -- hundreds, maybe even thousands of fireflies, dancing about. This was a time in young Gilian's life when she was absolutely fascinated with fairies -- so she turned to Uncle Mike sitting in his wheelchair and said -- "Do you see all the fairies, Uncle Mike…?"

* * * * *
You see, it doesn't really matter what you believe in -- when you boil it down, life comes down to a series of memorable, shared moments.

Like when Uncle Mike took me to see my first Red Sox game at Fenway Park -- where we ended up seeing Yaz, and Dwight Evans, Jim Rice, Dennis Eckersley, Carlton Fisk and Wade Boggs play over the years, in the shadow of the famous "Green Monster"…

Or when a bunch of us recreated Fenway Park playing wiffel ball in Uncle Mike's back yard on a hot summers day, drinking cold sodas… When Uncle Mike would shout out his strange mantra of "Pee-gee ball until age 30!"...

Or later when he was teaching me how to load a soda machine at the Norwich insane asylum -- and I hit a can against a sharp corner in the machine, and it just started spraying everywhere -- and all the nut jobs in that part of the asylum freaked out and all started yelling and dancing around…

Or when we all grabbed a beer the night before Megan's wedding on Martha's Vineyard, and he and Brian lamented to me about the perils of having the Bachelor Party just days before the wedding...

Or the time he asked me what the heck I was thinking when I broke into his favorite Northampton bar, well after last call -- well after Michael Pat's wedding and reception...

Or when three generations of family stood in the woods behind the ice cream shop near Bradley airport and saw fairies dancing around at dusk…

* * * * *
Each of you have had your memorable, shared moments with Uncle Mike -- or the Godfather, as he preferred to be called whenever there was heavy drinking was involved -- and I encourage each and every one of you to take the time out in the coming days, and weeks, and months to treasure those moments with Mike...

Because we will all miss you, Uncle Mike -- my, I mean our, Godfather…

//jp

JP Foerster