Sunday evening

Another day without Mike has come to a close. Friends and neighbors are stopping by, hugging me and weeping. Sometimes I weep with them. Sometimes I console them.  Today I got a call from Heidi, his high school sweetheart, with whom he had a son. They were both 19, pregnant and scared. All by themselves they found a Christian group to help them through the pregnancy, and picked the adoptive parents. She said that it was Michael that was clear on what they should do. He helped her through the whole thing. He took responsibility for his son, just as I had taught him. I used tell him that if he ever got a girl pregnant, he was a father, I was a grandmother, and he was responsible for the baby.  We had a lovely talk.I told her how proud I was of both of them for the decision they made together.  She was really sad about Michael. She told me a story that I hadnt heard before. She said that one day he was lying on his back on a big rock behind our house. I know that rock. We called it appropriately enough, 'the big rock' While he was lying there, a hawk flew over him and dropped a feather and it fell on his chest. He knew it was very symbolic. I told Heidi that I used to sit on that rock and I could feel the native Americans gathered around me having some sort of ritual. I could feel the chief was standing on the rock leading the ritual. She told me that Mike told her the exact same thing. I have always been attracted to hawks and hawk feathers.   I have several on my dresser (feathers, not hawks).
Heidi said that when he left her in Hawaii, she stood in the airport holding and begging him to stay and start a life with her.  But he wouldnt stay. He wanted to go home to the mainland.
Heidi said that she would try to get in touch with their son, Brian or Brian's adoptive parents.