R.I.P. Mike A. Mills
October 3, 1932- October 10, 2003
My favorite memory of Mikey was my first day at CESCO. I walked into the office for my first day of "professional" work. At the receptionist's desk, there stood an old man with white hair and glasses in outrageous red plaid golf pants that he had to wear because he lost a bet. What an ornery old man he was.
His death had been expected since he was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer early last year. It was still a shock when I got the news on Friday morning. He had just gotten out of the hospital after a bout with pneumonia, but we really though that he was going to be fine. I am sad because I hadn't talked to him in a couple of months and I hadn't sent him a get well card yet. I sent my best wishes to him through his family, but I am sad because I didn't really get to say goodbye.
I found out today that I will have my chance to say goodbye on Saturday. Which is my birthday. Everyone around me thinks that it sucks. Actually, so did I. I thought about it though, and now I think that it is kind of cool. Mikey wanted to be remembered in a party on the beach. No stuffy funerals and somber black clothing for this man. He wants us all in beach attire, living it up in the sand. I am sure he will be in heaven, putter in one hand, cigar in the other, looking down on us and laughing. So I decided that sharing my day with him, spending a day that is special to me celebrating the life of a special man is the perfect kind of day to have.
I love ya, Mikey.
October 3, 1932- October 10, 2003
My favorite memory of Mikey was my first day at CESCO. I walked into the office for my first day of "professional" work. At the receptionist's desk, there stood an old man with white hair and glasses in outrageous red plaid golf pants that he had to wear because he lost a bet. What an ornery old man he was.
His death had been expected since he was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer early last year. It was still a shock when I got the news on Friday morning. He had just gotten out of the hospital after a bout with pneumonia, but we really though that he was going to be fine. I am sad because I hadn't talked to him in a couple of months and I hadn't sent him a get well card yet. I sent my best wishes to him through his family, but I am sad because I didn't really get to say goodbye.
I found out today that I will have my chance to say goodbye on Saturday. Which is my birthday. Everyone around me thinks that it sucks. Actually, so did I. I thought about it though, and now I think that it is kind of cool. Mikey wanted to be remembered in a party on the beach. No stuffy funerals and somber black clothing for this man. He wants us all in beach attire, living it up in the sand. I am sure he will be in heaven, putter in one hand, cigar in the other, looking down on us and laughing. So I decided that sharing my day with him, spending a day that is special to me celebrating the life of a special man is the perfect kind of day to have.
I love ya, Mikey.
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