His Dogness

I don’t believe that I have ever been so caught off guard as I was the night I came home and Kim told me that Mike Callaghan had died.

His words didn’t make sense for several minutes, as though he were speaking a foreign language.

Mike was my husband’s best friend and someone who was larger than life to me. Kim and I had talked about making a children’s book with him in it as a magical role model.

A visit from him was nothing short of a great story or a replenishing retreat. He was a source. He gave. It’s simply what he did.

Last time I saw him was at a gathering to celebrate Kim and me getting married. He took his huge hands and clasped my shoulders and said, “I am so happy for my friend because you are exactly what he has always wanted. I am just so happy for my friend.”

I remember looking up into his face and thinking, “You are so genuine.”

He was so unique and a big part of why he stood out was because of how genuine he was. In his art, his advice, his laughing, his way of giving you his full attention, he was so genuine.

I understand now that, because I have never met anyone like Mike, he created his own place in my heart.

I am amazed at that today.