Tribute to Michael

Long before I set up this blog, I’d had topics upstairs that I’d planned at some point to bring to the blogosphere. I’ve even worked on fleshing out some of them-–no small feat for someone who has almost never willingly sat down to write. But they were all swept to the side by what happened yesterday. A friend of mine was murdered, along with his mother-in-law. If you want the details, look here. What I want to do is talk about my friends: Michael, his wife, Joan, and their family. Of course, I’m still processing--even at my ripe middle age, I’m not sure how long that all takes, or should take. I’m flipping rapidly among the various stages of mourning, though most often I seem caught in denial. Not intellectual denial, but emotional: I find myself thinking that I’m going to be talking to Michael any day now, remembering things we’ve discussed and the long-delayed answers I’d composed in my head for him. And remembering things I wished I’d said. I am also uncomfortably reminded that I hadn’t seen him and Joan in more than a year. My fault--I’m the one who faded. They sent their Christmas letter as usual, which I enjoyed as usual, because Michael was quite a writer. I’ve known the Lefkow family for years, though it’s been a gradual process. I started working fairly closely with both Michael and Joan in 1998, when it became apparent that our parish had troublesome leadership. Working through the issues over the next several years, I came to admire and respect both of them deeply. The words that come to mind are integrity, honesty, courage, principle, character, strong sense of self--always in the tone of calm consideration. Even when those they confronted were less than attentive or respectful, I think Michael and Joan both took the high road. Joan was elected in 1999 to our parish’s vestry, and she held the very tough ground of being part of “the loyal opposition,” which was a quite thankless task. A year later I was also elected, and had the privilege of serving with her, watching and learning. More lessons came after her term ended, because the situation in the parish changed. The many discussions I had with Michael in those times were challenging. Again faced with serious issues of leadership, following a change, we had to consider what had gone wrong, and how to fix it. Of course we had different theories, but disagreeing was okay. We gave each other things to ponder. I remember Michael often calling up and saying, “Here, what do you think about this?” And Joan was most often in the background (she really hated talking about parish events because they were so frustrating), but would still chime in when Michael relayed to her what I’d said. They were in every sense a partnership. The comments in the Tribune about their relationship are true: he clearly adored and respected her. This is someone who could not be threatened by a strong woman. I believe they would have celebrated their 30th wedding anniversary this year, but no complacency could be detected. So many memories flit through my head--what to include? I also taught music skills for adults, and Michael was an eager, engaged participant. I’m proud to say that I saw him progress from the much-maligned “monotone” to beginning to learn what intervals are and how they sound. He just didn’t do anything halfway. He was also the proud father of five daughters. I’ve watch four of them grow into lovely young women (never met the eldest), truly tributes to their parents. Just as I think Joan is a tribute to her parents--I never met her mother, also murdered, but she must have been extraordinary, to look at Joan. It’s hard to let go of someone who’s been so influential. Though I won’t let go entirely; the lessons learned will stay. Requiescat in pacem, Michael and Donna; may light eternal shine upon you.