In Memoriam: Mr. Michael Kieran Finbar Hourihan

Seldom does a person touch our lives in a way that forever warms our hearts and limps our strides. For some, a person of such influence will never exist. For those unfortunate enough to be reading this eulogy, that person has come and now gone.

An unlikely bride eyes Mr. Michael's maraca 

Mr. Michael Kieran Finbar Hourihan was a man of many talents. Known by many an unsuspecting bachelorette party, Mr. Michael had become a fixture of the local bridal circuit's most salacious bar-based traditions. Never more than a back-bend away, Mr. Michael was keen to seek ought brides-to-be and their mismatched bridesmaids who had long since exhausted the requisite rash of penis-shaped favors and resolved to an evening of heavy drinking and sweaty sing-along dancing. Mr. Michael would breathe life into the most defeated of bachelorettes; a beacon of hope that, one day too, their husband may share in their love for candy penis necklaces and unintelligible screams that girls just want to have fun.

Post flauta explosion

Lest we forget Mr. Michael's love for food, specifically flautas. As if designed exclusively with Mr. Michael in mind, the flauta is constructed in a long, slender fashion often filled with delicious meats and spices that explode in one's mouth when taken in fully. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a flauta? Mr. Michael preferred not to know, often indulging in the full length of the meat stick, carefully bypassing his gag reflex, and consuming all that it had to offer without leaving a single trace behind. As Mr. Michael would often explain, "Nana taught me it's rude not to swallow".

Disregard for potato famine

And that brings us to Nana, Mr. Michael's beloved grandmother. Mr. Michael was so close and so dear to his grandmother. Nana had almost entirely written him off, citing his disregard for female affection akin to that of the Irish potato famine. It was later understood that Nana had confused, in an albeit abstract and nuanced way, the words "female" and "famine". Despite his being a constant reminder of traumatic times, Mr. Michael bought the love of his Nana with a quilt he never quite completed. In an almost convenient bout of senility, Nana began to mistake Mr. Michael in her later years for his younger, and much more family-oriented brother John. Mr. Michael never corrected Nana for this mistake.

With friends

Above all else, Mr. Michael was known to his friends as the pillar of the Northampton (New Westfield) community. At a moment's notice, Mr. Michael would participate in and brighten the spirits of any mundane activities in which his brethren may be engaging. He shared coffee. He shared sushi. He shared the dance floor. He shared tears. Mr. Michael was the friend who was always there, who was never not there, and who was never sometimes missing. Mr. Michael was always free to spend time and to give time. A friend of the highest degree. Elite by his own measure, and yet humble by nature. Mr. Michael was a man amongst all walks of life. His friends were the gamers, the engineers, the artists, the bartenders, and the juggalos.

Coming to terms and moving on.

Today we lay these memories of Mr. Michael to rest and we set forth on what can only be expected a colorless, and woeful existence. Mr. Michael has found love, or at least some manner of commitment, in the wiles of one Zackary Lilley. Mr. Michael has entered into the sacred bond of complication with this individual; Their relationship so enmeshed that Mr. Michael has yet to understand it fully himself. This change in relationship status has written a new chapter in Mr. Michael's life and thus closed the book on that of his friends. He is moving on, coming to terms, making a mends with himself, his choice of sexuality, and will be in our tireless prayers as he navigates the firey waters of Hell for it.

Speaking on behalf of them all: We will miss Mr. Michael and the times and farmstand preserves we used to share. He used to have time for us. He used to want us. He used to love us. He used to be...
our friend. <3