Michael Jose Lara born January 28th, 1982 - Missing from us on December 9th, 2022.

Michael loved his family, was an avid fisherman and had a heart for Jesus.  Not only did he love his children but he had a heart for all children.                     

Celebrating Michael Jose Lara

Cool Cousin Mike. That’s who he is to me, but he is so much more to so many more people—Cool fill-in-the-blank Mike.

Michael Jose Lara was the first grandchild on the Bridell side of his family. From the stories to his interactions with his grandfather, John, his many aunts and uncles, and his loving mother, Teresa, the adoration and deep appreciation for Michael were obvious. From chasing around “yittle yizzards” in backyards in Florida as a child, to chasing angels in Northern Minnesota, Michael lived a full life with his gregarious smile that warmly greeted those in his presence.

Growing up, Michael lived a different kind of life than some of his cousins, especially in terms of socioeconomics. Despite that, Cool Cousin Mike never complained and always wore an article of clothing or accessory that helped give him this familial moniker—sunglasses, a hat, a piece of jewelry.

To be cliché, they say still waters run deep—and with Michael, it felt true. His coolness was apparent to everyone, but the depth and breadth of Michael Lara seemed reserved for only those he knew closest. The colorful strokes of his life—like those of his artwork—were often painted for outsiders only through occasional anecdotes and secondhand updates.

He was a hard worker, a son, a father, a husband, and a brother. Michael faced challenges in life that many others never had to endure. Yet somehow, he kept going. He brought joy in the hardest of times by creating tattoos and portraits that gave beauty and meaning to people and places who needed it most.

Loss brings up many emotions, questions, and regrets. Could have, should have, would have. It’s something in our human nature that seems to drive us to wonder what missteps we took and what we might have done better to prevent the loss—or at least made the loss more bearable by knowing with certainty that we did the very best we could and made someone else’s life a little better while they were still here with us. Sadly, the circumstances surrounding Michael’s sudden disappearance made this all the more painful and confusing.

Michael said he saw an angel and wanted to feed homeless people in another country. Regardless of how realistic that dream was given his own circumstances, there is something deeply noble in that vision. The fact that Michael started sketching this angel but stopped because he believed he couldn’t do it justice speaks to his character, humility, and drive.

He is missed deeply by his strong mother, Teresa; his wife, Rachel; his children, Tony and Bella Lara; his father, Antonio; his brother, Jacob; his grandmothers, Joan Bridell and Sharon Williams; his numerous aunts, uncles, cousins, and his many friends.

If we take a step back and look at his life from a 30,000-foot view, perhaps there are some lessons and solace in it for all of us. I’m reminded of a line from a song called “Good Lord,” by Minnesota artist Brother Ali—someone who also understands what it means to walk through pain with purpose:

Soul of a soldier, heart of a scholar

I wrote this poem with the blood of a martyr

Like the basketball commercial from the ‘90s, I wonder if the world would be a little better place if we could all just … Be Like Mike.

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