A Toast

It's going to be okay.

The things we tell ourselves in the late hours when everything else is asleep or far away. Of all the things to say, that's a good phrase to hold onto. And it's true. No doubt in my mind. My previous postings this month probably seem a bit... hmmm... darker than per usual, but don't let that mislead. My optimism is still there. It just sometimes feels... I don't know. Just feels that way.

On a much lighter note, today is the birthday of a man I quite admire and regularly call my brother; though the title is strictly one of honor, not birth. I think that counts for something more in this world. And so rather than do the usual and sit here and talk about myself, I'm going to say a few word about the man of the hour.

And for once, I'll use someone's real name. Don't be alarmed. I'll only use his first one, which he'll tell was quite popular in the year he came into this world.

Michael is one of the friends I plan to have right up until the end. Some people have asked me why. He sometimes can't keep a secret, and yet I trust him completely. He engenders loyalty and I fully expect that had we been born twelve-hundred years ago, he would have been in battle with me. Probably would've saved my neck more than once. If someone were to ask me why I was friends with him, I'd answer simply: because he's everything a friend should be.

The other night, we threw him a party in the form of a Wake (it'll be explained in a future post) and what with all the debauchery and Irish reels filling the air, I didn't get a chance to lift a pint and toast a dear friend. This is sort of what I would have probably said that night:

All too often, we honor those no longer with us. We wait until our loved ones have gone before us and then it's hardly useful and it becomes our comfort, not theirs. If only every man were so fortunate to hear his friends speak of him at his own Wake. To laugh with them at the stories, to share a pint with them, and for just a few hours to only think of the best of times. To be remembered for the good things.

If Michael has taught me one thing, it is to be strong. To stand up for what I believe in and stand with the people I call my friends. To lift up my voice and be heard. And to not settle for anything less than victory in everything I do.

I don't always achieve that. But that does not deter Michael from offering the support that only a friend and brother can. He always has two simple words for me when I think it's too much. Grow stronger. Said with encouragement and the absolute belief that I will.

I am proud to call him my friend. Prouder still, my brother. And I am honored that he might consider the same of me.

As he celebrates the passing of another year and looks forward to one full of new adventure and fresh opportunities... Michael, I raise a glass to you brother. May this year be your best yet, and only the beginning.