Michael Welch
Michael Welch was my brother in law. We knew each other for over 30 years.
He was a kind, funny, smart man, who persevered through many challenges in his life.
We said goodbye to him April 25, 2022. This was his eulogy at his funeral several weeks later:
Michael John Welch was born in Vancouver on October 10, 1961. He attended Vancouver College, Langara, UBC, and BCIT, obtaining a degree in psychology and a diploma in computer science. He worked as a programmer for a local airplane services company, as well as a security guard and as a Mental Health Support worker. Mike grew up with his family on Dunbar, before moving to Richmond and then finally arriving in the West End, where he lived on the 8th floor by Nelson and Thurlow.
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Mike’s life changed about 18 months ago when he got his cancer diagnosis, which is where we’ll pick up the story because the car rides that started then are a good window into lots of areas of his life. Mike would come out to our place for dinner every Saturday night. We’d pick him up from downtown and catch up on things. We all enjoyed these dinners. Reece from next door would make Nachos, Mike would spend time with family and our precious 100 pound lapdog Henry, and Cathy would always send him home with extras. Mike, not the dog.
Mike was a man of routine. We’d start by talking about the people he’d been in touch with - usually on the daily. Phil, Martin, Mary & James, Uncle Bill (rest in peace) and Billy. He loved his family and friends, and really enjoyed daily phone calls keeping in touch with everyone.
Next up, sports. I’m the village idiot when it comes to sports, but Mike did his best to educate me, explaining not just the difference between icing and a double fault, but that they belonged to different sports all together. The Canucks were always discussed at length, of course with the usual banter, always concluding with “This could be the year Mike!”, and Mike’s reply, laced with the caution only a true Canuck’s fan can muster “I don’t know Jerry, we’ll see”.
Many moons ago Mike and I did Kung Fu at the West End Community Center, and we bowled together enough years that we had our own playing nom de plumes - I was the Brill Cream Kid, due to the odious amounts of hair product I would use, and Michael was the Hand of Doom, due to his methodical and predictable pummeling of me.
From there the conversation would wind around familiar themes and objects in his orbit. There were the dailies - Programming he was working on, elation and frustration with technology and gadgets, interactions with neighbours, friends and acquaintances from around the building, car rides in his new Mazda Martin helped him pick out and buy.
Then there were visits and revisits to favourite memoires, when we’d make light of hospital trips or harken back to memories of family .We were like the two muppets Statler and Waldorf in the balcony, badgering each other back and forth in a stand up routine
“You don’t know hospitals, Mike”
“No YOU don’t know hospitals, Mr. Mesner. *I’ve had so many scan my XRAYS have had XRAYS”
Michael was close with both his parents, John and Rosemary, but he was especially close to John. Their special spot was the den, where the couches knew them both on a first name basis. They would watch TV and engage in back and forth, Mike with a cup of coffee and John with a glass of cold milk. John manned the TV remote, and if he started to doze, there would be pass off to Michael like an Olympic torch. The grace and agility in this hand off was a breathtaking spectacle to behold.
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Mike’s story wouldn’t be complete without mentioning his struggles. He wrestled with mental health challenges for a good part of his life. Many actions and events most people would take for granted were enmeshed in difficulty for Mike. It took a tremendous amount of energy and effort for him to make it through a lot of days. And yet, he kept going. While Mke learned to reach out from the shadows to family, friends, and the system for help, there were undeniably tough times. It’s testament to Mike’s heart and perseverance that he never gave up.
Mike had a sharp mind and a good long term memory, particularly for dates. He had everybody’s birthday memorised, and I learned long ago never to challenge him on movie trivia for two reasons - one, because of the Welch competitive gene he inherited, and two, because he was almost always right.
Mike loved classic rock and was such a good uncle to the kids growing up. There are a lot of special pictures with him spending time with his nieces and nephews. He often reminisced of going to the kid’s bookstore in Kitsilano with them, followed by lunch and MacDonalds.
Mike really enjoyed his trip with Phil, Francine and the kids to Disneyland in 2008, where the kids ran him off his feet every day before lunch. That same trip, Phil and he saw Steely Dan from the second row.
Last summer was a special time too, when a gaggle of the family headed up to Kelowna, where we had an early surprise 60th for Mike. He really enjoyed getting out of the city and putting his new Mazda to the test.
Mike liked well portioned dinner plates, adult beverages on the fruity and frosty side, and being ready for second helpings faster than the Canucks could blow a power play.
We are, in fact, giving a nod to Mike’s love of Whitespot after today’s service, with burgers and fries being served in his honour next door.
Finally, you can tell a lot about a person by the way others talk about them. The two words I hear most often when people talk about Michael are that he was kind, or gentle, or both. Since Mike passed, going through pictures of him, I see it even more clearly - his soft presence holding a niece or nephew, a shy smile coming through from the crowd. It was also front and center as he dolloped attention on dogs, or asked for details about what Julia, Christina, Nicholas, Sarah, Ethan, Chris, Jeff, Brenna or Maddie were up to.
Chris summed it up beautifully in an email - how Mike’s kind nature and infectious laugh drew him in, and that Mike was always supportive of his goals.
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There were many health care professionals, friends and family involved with Michael leading up to and following his cancer diagnosis. Special thanks to Victoria, Maria, and Susie. We’d like to thank Three Bridges for their mental health support, and Mike’s oncologist throughout his treatment. In his final weeks, the Palliative Staff at St. Pauls were so supportive. And the hospice staff at The Cottage were amazing with their care and compassion in Michael’s final days.
Finally, a special shout out to Martin, whose unflagging friendship and support to Michael over the years and decades was phenomenal. From cars to computers to financials, Martin was always there. Thank you.
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Mike’s journey down here is complete now. There won’t be any more Saturday car rides, and I’m not gonna lie, that smarts. There are Mike-sized holes peppered in my life now, as there will be for everybody here and watching. But my sadness is salved by the fact that Mike is at peace now. You persevered buddy, and you were kind doing it. Well done. Rest easy.
