Brownie

One year ago, the world lost a great man.

Mike Brown never complained about his cancer.  He opened every conversation asking "how are you?" and never once telling you about his cancer or the hurt it was causing him.  Truth be told, if you didn't know he had cancer, you'd never know.

I met Mike back in 2003 through hockey.  Mike and his wife Jeanette had a small get together at their house before an event I was working in Phoenix.  My boss and I were invited and over the course of that evening, I felt that I could not meet two nicer people.

After that weekend, I kept in touch with Mike and when I started my own business, he included me in as a vendor and working with Mike was a dream.  It was always nice to catch up.

I delivered product to Mike's event in 2010 without a problem and 6 weeks after the event, I thought it was weird that Mike hadn't sent a check.  I called and emailed without a response, and finally, one day, Mike calls to tell me he was "on vacation" and that he was sorry for the check being late.  Sure enough, 2 days later, I had a check, but deep down, I knew what being on vacation meant.

A few months went by and I was on Twitter the night of July 16, 2010, when I read a post from @Panger40 (Darren Pang) that in short, said that Mike had passed away.  Not sure what was worse; knowing that Mike had passed or reading it on Twitter.

Regardless of that, one thing I did know, is that quite possibly the nicest person I'd ever met in my life was no longer with us.

A few nights later in Scottsdale, a celebration in honor of Mike's life was held.  You see, Mike planned this party.  Mike didn't want people to mourn his death, although, many of us, in our own way, do.  Mike wanted people to tell stories, Jimmy Buffet and The Rolling Stones playing, some beer and alcohol being consumed.  Most of all, Mike wanted the people that surrounded all aspects of his life to come together and have a good time in his memory.

And what happened?  Mike pretty much got his wish.  Despite not wanting people to shed tears, they are natural.  But boy, some stories were told, music played, beer consumed!  And you know that Mike was looking down, laughing at the stories of him arguing at the first tee about what his golf handicap was and the opposition trying to call bullshit on it, only to have Mike fire back with "look, I have stage IV cancer, there is no stage V", and he'd not only get his way, but then go on to rule the golf course.  We laughed, cried, and enjoyed life that night, almost a perfect night of what Mike wanted.

Mike never made cancer a pity party.  However, he did encourage everyone to live their life to the fullest and to live each day without regrets.

One year later, I miss him, but, I'll never forget him.  And although I haven't been able to change certain aspects of my life to be able to fully embrace living every day without regret, that day is coming sooner than later, and I'll be able to thank this wonderful man for that.