I’ve debated whether or not to post something about my cousin Michael, and what to say if I did. In the end, I feel like I need to, even if just to put it out there to a bunch of people that never even knew him.
My cousin, Michael Mosser, died on Monday.
Michael was one of my favorite cousins. When I was a little kid, he was always very kind to me. I have the most random memories of silly games we would play, from board games to a “see if you can guess what this item from the fridge is with your eyes closed, by smelling it.” He was goofy, and loved to laugh, and I always smiled when he was around.
As I grew older, I came to realize that his adoration for Madonna wasn’t because he wanted to have sex with her… He “took a different path” as he put it. Mike was the first man I knew to be gay, and it gave me a certain amount of hope when I was a scared teenager trying to come to terms with my own sexuality.
He was the first person I knew to have a drug problem – watching his struggles and remembering how he had to come to the family for help did more to keep me from ever trying illegal drugs than any old lady spouting “Just say no!” or television piece with an egg and a frying pan.
He died on Monday, after being in the hospital for a month. I had no idea he was sick, or that he’d been injured at work, or that he was in intensive care for awhile. All I knew was that he lived in Jacksonville and had talked to me six weeks ago about coming up to Charlotte and visiting.
I actually thought of Mike very recently when I read an article about gay couples having immigration problems, because a US citizen cannot sponsor his/her same-sex partner the way he/she can an opposite-sex spouse. Mike and his longtime partner Bob, who is from Canada, struggled for years to make a permanent home together here.
They were actually starting to move into a new place together the day Mike got hurt at work, in fact. Don’t get me wrong — they’ve lived together in Jacksonville for years… They were just making a new home for themselves.
I’m rambling. It’s late, and I’m tired, but I just felt like I needed to put this out there. Something about writing things down makes them feel more real to me, I suppose.
Cousin Mike was one of the most faithful readers of my blog. He used to comment a lot, either publicly or by email, which always made me feel connected to him. I’m going to miss that.
I’m sorry that I never managed to sync up my schedule with his while I was in (or driving through) Jacksonville. I’m sorry Sal never got to meet Mike or Bob, and vice versa. I’m sorry that my last conversation by phone was when we were trying get out of the parking garage Uptown after seeing a play, so I didn’t have time to really talk to him.
I’m sorry I didn’t know he was in the hospital for a month, and never got the chance to say goodbye.
I’ll miss you, Michael Mosser. Rest in peace.
:/
I’m sorry to hear that, Kevin. It’s always tough to lose a family member but it sounds like he will live on in your memories, which is a fine legacy. Best wishes to you, Bob, and the rest of your family.
Thanks for sharing….very sorry for your loss, hon!
I am so sorry for your loss Kevin!
Hi Kevin! I’m “Nancy in NY” as Mike called me.
I “met” Mike back in 1993 on “Prodigy” (I’m dating myself here). We were part of what we called “The Letterman Gang”, a group of David Letterman fans. We exchanged phone numbers and would talk a couple of times a month. I met him when I visited my uncle in Florida. This was when Mike was living in Clearwater. I also met his parents. We had such a good time!
Years later, he and Bob came up to NY. I met them there and we spent about 5 hours roaming around. We went to the Ed Sullivan Theater where the Late Show is iaped. He was so excited to see the familiar sites that were often shown on the show.
The last time I spoke to Mike was a couple of days before he was injured. He was so excited about the house he & Bob had just bought.
I spoke to Bob last week. My heart hurt at the pain in his voice.
I’ll miss my friend. I’ll miss our long late night phone calls.
He always ended his call with, “Goodnight, Sweetie. I love you.”
I love you too, Mike. You always made me laugh.
My sympathies to you, Kevin, and your family.
Nancy (in New York)
Hi Kevin,
This is Bob. As Mike’s partner for almost 11 years, I was touched when I read your posting and I am glad you took the time to remember him. Although I only ever met you one time, it would be great if we could stay in touch and perhaps visit sometime in the future when you are passing through Jacksonville, or I am in Charlotte again.
I miss Mike more than I could ever have imagined and my life right now is so turned upside down that the only thing that holds me together is the friends and family we’ve had over these years. There will never be another person quite like him and it is very difficult for me to deal with right now. Feel free to drop me a line from time to time.
Thanks,
Bob