Fridays with Mac: "Mike, Wha-ZAY!"

Four months of learning how to live with Amyloidosis have now been interrupted with tragic news. It’s time to learn how to live without a big brother. Michael Chester McIntosh, only 68 years young, took his last breath recently on a beautiful Midwestern summer afternoon.

Congestive heart disease took this intelligent, goofy and caring husband, father and grandpa. Three McIntosh clan members, older sister Debbie, younger brother Matt and yours truly lost their North star. The excellent criminal defense and family law attorney was highly regarded in the legal community. Big dog lover too.

The earliest recollections, of having a big brother four years older, are centered around youth sports. Our father often coached Mike’s teams. I was the bat boy, water boy and loved hanging around the sports teams (baseball, basketball and football) Mike played upon.

As we grew older and sports continued to dominate our childhoods, this free spirit and buddies would sometimes need an extra guy for neighborhood games. I was always tagging along. Often, there would be a need to even the teams. Guess what? These older guys would, sometimes hesitantly, pronounce, “We’ll take Al.”?

“Albino” was a childhood nickname from Mike and compadres because of my chalky white legs. Still got ‘em. However, I was in the game. Lucky me. I KNOW this opportunity to compete against guys bigger, faster and stronger played a huge role in my development as an athlete. I had to step up my game to be invited back.

So many memories. Here’s one. Mike was 15, still not legal to drive, and too busy to join the family on a summer vacation to California. The McIntosh clan had a VW bus but took another family car to the Golden State. Unexpectedly, we returned to our Raytown, Missouri home a day early. No sign of Mike or the VW bus. The next day, our scheduled time of arrival, older brother showed up after his joy ride. Safe, sound and in trouble. He and dad had a robust “conversation.”

The devoted Chiefs’ and Royals’ fan was unique. Counter cultural. An excellent student who always knew he wanted to practice law. Did it very well for more than 40 years making an impact on countless lives with his legal talents, caring demeanor and courtroom acumen.

Another reflection from his undergraduate days at Central Missouri State in Warrensburg, Missouri. It’s Mike’s senior year. The intramural flag-football team needed a quarterback. Well, I was a senior in high school, pretty good at that skill set and, occasionally, invited to make the 45-minute drive and direct the attack. Hung with the fellas afterward. Fun times. Except for the time the brakes failed on the family farm truck I’d drive to the games. It was a challenge explaining being in Warrensburg on a Monday school night in a broken-down ol’ jalopy. It was my turn for the “conversation” with dad.

There’s more. What a blessing to have a family law attorney as big brother through two painful and unwanted divorces. He saved me thousands of dollars in attorney fees. Never asked for a dime in return. My rock in tumultuous times.

That was Mike. What a gift to have 65 years together. Toward the end, with his health failing and mine in doubt with Amyloidosis, we talked frequently about our mortality. The fragility of life. Given the challenging health issues with, in the past decade or so, colon cancer, heart attack, diabetes, constant UTI’s and congestive heart failure, this amazing guy was ready to let go and let God.

Back in those years when this freckled-faced little brother always tagged along for neighborhood pickup games, Mike and his buddies had this unique language. When seeing one another they’d burst into a heart-felt “Wha-zay!” It was a universal code between teenage jocks shouting to the world that everything was cool.

Mike and I kept it going for the rest of our lives. Whenever we’d talk, the conversation always started with “Wha-zay!” Our sacred salutation of love, respect and concern for one another.

It’s hard to fathom the game is over. Wha-zay, Mike. You were a great big brother.