Friday, October 28, 2005
I remember my mom once saying about Uncle Mike, "he is a good man". From that moment I aspired to someday have someone say that about me in just that way. I cherish the memory of becoming a defacto Murray boy every summer in Stone Harbor. For as stern as Uncle Mike could seem, down the shore, he lit up like a Christmas tree. I'll never forget looking out to the surf to see skinny Uncle Mike, with arms streched, looking like Granny's crusifix, floating on the surface. I swore that he would float all the way to France. The grin on his wet de-specticled face was priceless. Praise the Lord, there's another huge celebration in the Heavens tonight. Lots of singing, embracing and full of all the joy and peace they all so deserve. Until we meet again, we love you Uncle Mike, save a spot for us.
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