Eulogy for Sir Michael
 
February 23, 2023 - St. Pius X Church, Westerly, Rhode Island

Good morning. My name is Christian Tobler and I'm the Grand Master of the Order of Selohaar, an order of chivalry, one that Michael was an esteemed member of.
He is missed terribly by us. To say that Michael was loved by the member of our fellowship is an understatement - rather, he was beloved. And he had become a knight of the order just this past December.

In the famous tales and legends of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table the Quest for the Holy Grail looms large. The knight who achieves - who wins - the Grail varies, depending on which version of the legend one reads. In the earliest romances, it is Sir Perceval, raised away from the bustle of the world, who achieves the Grail. Later, it is Sir Galahad, son of Lancelot, who is the Grail-winner. But both of these knights share a common quality of the ethereal, the mystical. And in Galahad's tale, after achieving the quest, he is taken out of world into heaven.
Michael shared in this ethereal quality, and like Sir Galahad, was taken out of the world at the apex of his achievement - after becoming a knight.

Michael was a gifted young man, one who perceived both the arc of history and the broad tapestry of the human condition. He possessed a brilliant intellect, but never talked down to anyone. He had a wonder of the world that was childlike, but never childish. And he was a fierce fighter in our armoured tournaments, but was always kind. He was, in the words of his friend Rob Kelly, who is with us today, utterly "without malice".

How does so wonderful a man come into the world? Two words will suffice in answering this: Denise and Leo. And William Shakespeare speaks to this, when he describes his hero-king Henry V as being "of parents good, of fist most valiant". Michael's goodness and valor flowed from his parents.

Now, I have never been a father. But it has been my observation that the best parents are those that know when they should steward and guide their children, and when they should let them find their own path. Let me relate one charming example of this…

Michael came to us in his late teens. He began by attending my weekday evening swordsmanship class, initially chaperoned by his father, who felt that what we did would be physically good for Michael, but also attractive to his studious nature. Now why parents would want to scrutinize potential nuts playing with swords is beyond me!…In any case, Leo came to class for some months with his son, and having wrestled as a young man, both enjoyed and excelled in my class. But after a time, he stopped coming. As much as he enjoyed class, it was important for this to be his son's own thing. That sacrifice says much.

We are all deeply wounded by the tragedy of Michael's passing. It is an incalculable loss. At times it feels as if the very earth is reeling beneath us. We must grieve. We must mourn. But we must not let grief harden with time into despair, helplessness, or worse, hopelessness. Instead, it is incumbent upon us - all of us - to take Michael's example of goodness and kindness and use his light to brighten a dark world. This needn't mean curing cancer or designing the next rocket ship, for all acts of kindness, great or small, forever change the world for the better.

Take the example of this noble man as inspiration to do good. It's what Michael would have wanted, and what he would have expected. Thank you.