From the moment I met Mike until the very last words he uttered to me, he was nothing short of amazing. He was a light in my life and a light in this world. Although I didn’t know him before the wheelchair or the LVAD, I truly never saw the disability or the health battles he faced daily. To meet him was to meet a man who refused to be defined by his circumstances. He was never too serious; he always had a joke to tell, a smile to give, and he was the living definition of inspirational.

Every time I saw him, I’d say, "Hi Papa Bear! How are you?" Without fail—even when he knew he was in his final days—his answer was always the same: "Livin' the dream!"

Mike was my superhero. He fought for his life and beat the odds time and time again, fighting until his very last second for his family. He accepted everyone without judgment and loved me fiercely as the daughter he never had. He frequently joked about adopting me because we were just that connected. We shared a special bond—one that only he, Mom, Josh, and I truly understand. He supported my relationship with his son 100% of the time, standing by us even when it felt like the world was against us. He defended me, protected me, and made sure everyone knew that I wasn’t just "the girlfriend"—I was a Holtz, through and through.

I will never forget our last conversation. During his last lucid day, I was fortunate enough to have some time alone with him. As I held his hand, I told him how sorry I was that he was going through this. He looked at me and asked, "What are you sorry for?" When I told him it wasn’t fair, he replied, "You don't have nothin' to be sorry about—it’s my problem." Even then, knowing his fate, he was busy taking care of my feelings.

I promised him I would take care of Mom and Josh, and he told me he knew I would. I was able to get him a Pibb—his first non-sugar-free drink in years. When I asked him how it was, he grinned and said, "Better than sex!" That was Mike. Even when the doctors mentioned intubation, he had enough fire left to tell them exactly where they could shove that tube.

I am eternally grateful for the unwavering love he showed me. I am honored that he left this world with the confidence and trust that his precious wife and only son would be loved and cared for by me.

There is no "moving on" from a loss like this; there is only a way forward, one step at a time. Mike will live on through Josh and through every memory we made. The hole in my heart is simply a bittersweet reminder of his existence and our everlasting bond.

Rest easy, Papa Bear. I will not let you down. I will keep my promises to you, and I’ll forever smile up at the sky, knowing you are finally pain-free, at peace, and watching over us. Always our fierce protector, forever our guardian angel.