This is who Mike was, much more so than the photo I posted the other day. The thing is, I have used this photo for the last seven and a half years and not gotten anywhere near the reaction that I have gotten from the horrible one I took six weeks before he died.
Apparently, a handsome, seemingly healthy young man evoked no feelings from people. I guess that's why Emmett Till's mother opened his casket, so the world could see what was done to her boy.
But this was the real Mike. This is how he wanted to be remembered, and it is how I struggle to remember him, smiling and with a devilish gleam in his eyes.
I wish I could erase the memories of his final days, of his final breaths. I wish I could turn back the clock and somehow get him the help he needed. I wish I could have him back, especially today, our shared birthday.
Mike died in 2008 because it was legal for insurance companies to refuse to sell him coverage. The Affordable Care Act changed that, but it was too late to save my son. It was legal for doctors to refuse to do the diagnostic tests that would have caught his cancer early. It still is.
It is still legal to deny a half million people in North Carolina coverage by refusing to expand Medicaid, and as a result seven people die every day the way my son did. Nationally, some 17,000 people die each year because they have no access to care.
Some people blame Mike. He should have saved up money for the colonoscopies. He should have gotten a job with insurance. He should have finished college when he was 21 instead of leaving after his freshman year.
That's a load of crap.
We as a society should have the heart to care for people. We should stop glorifying greed and start thinking about our collective soul.
Health care should be a basic human right. You shouldn't have to look at a man near death before you react.