Mike Wride...1958 - 2020

Aw, crap.

You never know by just logging on to social media you'll find news that a person you know, a friend, is gone. Even though he passed away earlier that day, for me, he was with us until I saw his sister's post. Then, no. Gone.

I met Mike Wride--it had to be almost twenty years ago--at work. He and I sat next to each other, when we worked in "luxury" cubicles at the time. We had the same job, worked on the same team. He was older, taller, wiser than me. He was funny--oh, Mike made me laugh, even though I doubt that was his purpose. He'd also been pretty beat up, at that point. He had been through a lot. He reminded me--and I mean this in the best possible way--of Eeyore, a kind man with a good heart, a humble man who smiled if he knew you were doing well.

Mike and I had similar experiences at work, both were promoted, both left the team at different times for similar reasons. I moved out of the building--he stayed, but any time I returned to the building for a meeting or a job interview, I always sought him out, to chat, to catch up.

When Mike retired, he was living a few miles down the road from me. He also worked at a place we shopped. Either he would spot me or I him when I did some shopping. Mike hadn't changed, always asked how I was doing, how the family was doing, and when he asked, I always knew he wanted to know. He genuinely cared about me and my family, no matter how he was doing or what has happening in his life.

A post from his family on social media indicated he had a health issue for the past six months. I believe I had interacted with him since then--he never mentioned anything--always more concerned about how others were doing.

Once, when he and I sat next to each other, I asked him how his previous evening had gone. He said he visited his sister's gravesite and brought with him a sandwich from a fast food establishment. He said it was her birthday and to celebrate/honor her memory, he bought her the sandwich and left it on the headstone. He said it was her favorite. That memory has stayed with me all this time. It showed me the love he had for her, the selfless act for someone he missed.

I'm sad to say I don't know what Mike's favorite sandwich was--he wasn't one to talk about himself like that very often. But I do know he was a great friend to me and so many others and I'll miss him and that warm, humble, and a little beat-up smile. Goodnight, Mike. And thank you, for everything.