Happy Birthday Michael Bowen!

This is a face I don't see anymore - except in my memories. That of my little brother Michael. Today would have been his 46th  birthday - but this senior picture is how I will always remember him because he was taken from us just a couple years after his senior year. I don't want to dwell on the sad details - because there are many and they can still all these years later bring me to tears. Because today is his birthday, I want to write about the many gifts he bestowed on those that he loved.


Bernard Michael Bowen was the youngest of five. The rest of us have names that start with the letter K - but Michael from birth was going to be unique. Named for his paternal grandfather, whom everyone called Barney. No one called Michael, Barney, until high school when many were adopting nicknames. His friends would jokingly call him Barney! And like nearly everything else in his life, he seemed to smile and shrug it off and go with the flow.


He played, and loved, football. And so another nickname became his as well - Bubba. Watching my son Matthew play football all these years, my Mom often comments that it's like watching Michael all those many years ago. When Michael went to Alma College, he played on the football team there. The team got to go to the Arctic Bowl. A dubious honor, I'm sure. Michael could hardly tell the stories of that trip without breaking into uncontrollable laughter when discussing certain aspects of that trip. Like the language barrier some of the players experienced in their host homes in Denmark (or was it Norway, or Sweden?). American football was new to the Nordic countries and many of the teams Alma played had the skill levels of high school teams. So, the great adventures for Michael were certainly not experienced on the field but off the field with the cultural differences. I can, in my memory, still recall the sound of his laughter because of the retelling of that adventure.


And his laughter was a gift. Loud, sometimes giddy, but always from the core of his being. He laughed fully - as if every part of him was taking part in the laugh. He'd often double over. Or tear up. Or lose the ability to speak through the laughter. What a joy to listen to - and of course I couldn't help but join in! both my brothers would rise early on Sunday mornings to watch the Abbott and Costello show and wake the rest of us with their laughter! Mad at the time, but it sure makes me smile now!


Bubba wasn't just about laughter and good times though. He had the enviable ability to get A's without effort, too. I can remember many times hearing my parents' lament that he never seemed to study or do homework. No dumb jock, that Bubba.


The greatest gift Michael gave us - was that he lived. That while on this earth he touched so many. A true testament to that was the procession from the church to the cemetery at his funeral - the line of cars took up nearly a mile - we were blocking one intersection at the front and another a mile back with the bus from Alma College. I just know that Michael was watching in Heaven and smiling down at the traffic jam he created! It's the kind of thing that he would find hysterical. That Alma College bus with full of students, the cars trailing along held students from college and high school, teachers from both as well, and so many friends. All could say how Michael had touched their lives in some way. And that is a gift. 


I cry to remember those days, weeks and months of grieving. And I don't think it would still cause the tears if his life wasn't so full and hadn't touched me in such a way. We named our eldest son after him (just the Michael - not the Bernard part!). And we see much of him in our son Matthew (the humor, the football, the grin). And I see my brother alive in them and hear him anytime I hear a loud, infectious laugh.


So, happy birthday Barney. I love and miss you but mostly I'm incredibly grateful for the gifts you gave that are lifelong.