Fifty-two years ago, my angel arrived on Earth. There was no big fanfare. No parades. No news announcements. Just proud parents Lorraine and Richard Asiala welcoming their first born son, Michael, to this world. All parents hope that their children achieve greatness. They want us to succeed on varying levels and mainly, to be good-hearted human beings, always giving to our fellow man. As is the case with Mike, I'm not so certain people understood how successful he was at doing just that. When Mike and I first met, it was theatre that drew us together. Two friends on stage to make audiences laugh and enjoy the show. As both our personal lives began to change, we became each other's confidant, lending an ear whenever needed. Being there when we felt no one else was. As friends, we helped each other get through those rough patches. I like to think that I gave Mike my all. That I did everything I ever could have possibly done for him. That I always showed him my love. That I was one of those good-hearted human beings. Some days I doubt that in myself, but I know I loved him completely and unconditionally and supported everything he did - and that he knew that as well. Mike, with his own friends and family, was also one of the good-hearted. He supported his children in everything they did. Spent countless hours consoling them, counseling them, cheering for them. He made them realize how beautiful they are, even when they didn't believe it. He was his girls' biggest fan and still is, always wanting the best for them. He was a friend that would lend a hand when you needed it most. Making sure someone who might have had too much to drink made it home safe. Standing up for those that couldn't quite stand up for themselves. Offering a few bucks for a friend who was slightly behind on their bills. Not to mention a fellow human being who didn't mind helping the less fortunate. Like the time Mike happened to see a man trying to manuever his almost-stalled car into a parking lot, only to find that the car just didn't have enough left in it to make it up the slight incline into the lot. Mike didn't waste a minute to give the guy a push. Or when he helped out the recovering addict in the neighborhood by giving him odd jobs to do. What he did for me was so much more. So much deeper. Before Mike, I had been in relationships, some good, mostly bad, and at a time when I truly started feeling that I was the cause for the demise of the good relationships and the reason for attracting the bad, he was there. I had faced abuse and financial ruin (just to name a few) in connection with these bad relationships. I was settled in the fact that I wasn't worthy of true love. I wasn't worthy of finding my soulmate. That I deserved to spend my life going from one bad relationship to another. Mike taught me to love myself again. To realize that I am a good person. That I do have so many things to offer this world. That I'm beautiful. That I'm intelligent. That I'm funny. That I'm sexy. That I'm fun to be around. That I'm talented. That I'm loved. He taught me that the only way to live this life is to live it to the fullest and that sometimes you have to just throw caution to the wind and know your guardian angel is watching over you. Fifty-two years ago, my angel arrived on Earth. While his time here was short, it was far from meaningless. They say only the good die young - I guess they knew my FLC. Happy Birthday Michael Richard Asiala September 21, 1959 - April 14, 2011 |
 |
|||||||
 
|
|
 |
|||||
    |
|||||||
