Eulogy for Michael Etzioni (1967-2006)

If you broke my knee caps, both of them; gouged out my eyes; and tore my heart out with your bare hands—it would pain me much less. Who is cruel enough to take this loving son, in the prime of his life, from his aging, ailing father? Who would tear a doting husband out of the arms of his loving wife? Deny a one year old son, the love of his father, and-- leave behind an infant to be born-- who will be unable to see his father even once? Who would take from four brothers, scores of other family members, and a legion of friends—their close and dear companion?

My wife tells me not to curse God. I do not. I believe in an almighty God who created the universe and gives it meaning. I must admit, though, that I sometimes am consumed by doubts. Where was that God in the killing fields of Cambodia? Why is he not shining his face on the people of Baghdad or Darfur? Above all, as a young Jewish child, born in Germany and who lived there during the Nazi’s takeover, I failed to see Him during the Holocaust.

My faith, to which I do hold on, is being tested to the point that I wonder whether my life was cut out of a page of the book of Job. First, a good part of my extended family was exterminated in the concentration camps. Then Minerva, my wife, the mother of Mike and Dari and Benjamin, was taken from us without warning, at the prime of her life. She was as outgoing, giving, and as loved as Mike was.

Then Mike was taken from us in early hours of August 24, 2006, without warning or preparations.

Mike was a son no father could ask for any better. Mike called me several times a week, often a day. When I would call him, and ask “is now it a good time?” Mike’s standard answer was “for you, aba, always”. Mike announced he and I had a ‘treaty’ that I would not go to countries on the State Department’s unsafe nations list. He made an exception for Israel. When I was invited to give a lecture in Colombia, Mike was on my case, urging, pleading, and demanding that I not go. When I got a new medication, Mike rushed to the Internet to study it and to warn me (which no one else did) that I must cease eating grapefruits. Often Mike called to ensure that a move he was planning to make in his personal or professional life might not somehow trouble the other person, undermine their position, or violate their confidence. And Mike called again and again “just to tell you, aba, that I love you very much”.

No father can ask for better.

Mike was a father no child could ask for any better. No one I know looked forward more to becoming a parent—several times over. Mike was a happy person but nothing came close to making him happier and prouder then when Lainie gave him Max in 2005 and—a year later – that another one was to follow. Mike used to talk to me about the news from the Middle East, development at his work place and among his friends and much else. But once Max was born, half of the time he was regaling me with the wonders of his son who took a step on his own! Who listened to a count on Sesame Street from one to five, and suddenly added—six! Who found a box that suited his size and used it as a table for his meal. And so on and on. A day Mike had to leave for work before Max was up or return after he was a sleep, was a painful day. On the day before Mike died, he got up early to play with Max and put him on the picture phone for me, to share his joy.

Dari, Mike’s brother, reminded us all how passionately Mike loved to play golf. He started playing rather poorly but worked hard at it, until he played a fair game. Above all, he much enjoyed being out there, with his good friends, hitting balls. That is, until Max was born. Mike dropped golf within a day, explaining that parenting was much more important. He never once complained or saw himself as a martyr.
All children should be so wanted. All children should be so loved. No child should have his father withdrawn so cruelly.

No spouse could ask for a better partner. In all the years Mike and Lainie were together, I never heard Mike say a bad word about his wife. He invariably declared that whatever plans were going to be made “I check with Lainie”. He sought to protect her from need, should anything happen to him, and did so very well indeed. His happiest years were those when he was married, and among those—once Lainie was expecting – Mike could not contain his joy.

No friend had a more loyal friend . Mike was forever fussing about his friends. If he was not crazy about the men several of his women friends dated, he set out --and several times succeeded-- to help them do better. If he was not keen about the job one of his friends held, he tried to help her find a better position. He had a keen ear for what was troubling people and a natural talent in reaching out and helping people cope with whatever besieged them.
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Many wonder what happened. Medical explanations are sure to follow. However, I see a deeper cause: MIKE’S HEART BEAT FOR EVERYONE ELSE UNTIL NO BEAT WAS LEFT FOR HIMSELF.

Those who knew Mike can post comments at this website.