At the memorial service for Michael Goodman in San Anselmo this afternoon, as she was singing a traditional prayer, it struck me what a beautiful voice the rabbi has. People talked about Michael; I was one of them. They talked about his kind face, his warm smile, his generous nature.
This is how we remember each other. We remember the good that is in each of us.
Michael's oldest son, Elliott, spoke for a bit. He seemed so grown up, eloquent and so much his father's son.
Many of us in that little chapel were in the same room for the first, and probably only time of our lives. Michael brought us together -- grieving for him.
I miss my friend, his warm nature, the way he was always so supportive of me and my challenges.
Elliott said his father is an angel now, with the other angels.
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