Indlithe fisic an lae inniu, glactar leis go bhfuil gach ní ceangailte le chéile ar bhealach diamhaireach éigin, ‘s nach bhfuil i stuff an domhain (agus sinne san áireamh) ach meascáin difriúla des na bun-aonaid céanna – ocsaigin, carbon 7rl.

Thuig Mic sin sar a d’fhág sé muid. Thuig sé sin agus solas na beatha á fheiscint aige timpeall ar bhláthanna Chearnóg Dartmouth, in aice lena árasán, cupla mí roimh a bhás. Thuig é sin agus grá ollmhór á bhraith aige ó ghach duine lenar bhuail sé. Grá a d’fhág é beagánín mí-chompórdach ar uaireabh, cé fíor-bhuíoch.
Thuig sé é freisin ‘s é ar leaba a bháis, go doimhin i gcóma, in oispidéal in Amsterdam, ar oíche fhuar Shamhain ‘s a dheirfiúr chaoin Máirín lena thaobh. Ar an oíche chéanna i mBleá Cliath, i Vicar St, bhí ceolchoirm eagraithe ag a chairde le hairgead a chur le chéile dá thuistí a bhí ag taisteal soir ‘s anoir chuig an Ísealtír.
Agus nuair a thosaigh a bhun-bhuan-chairde, Glen agus Rónán, ag canadh ‘Friends’ (amhrán a chum sé le Rónán), bhraith Glen go raibh Mic ag canadh ar an stáitse ina dteannta agus d’airigh Máirín é ag scaoileadh an ghreimín bhig a bhí aige ar an saol daonna, ag síothlú óna chorp mar a éalaíonn paillean ó bhláth le dul go háit inaithnid.
“ And I’ve seen you hide
Seen you lose all your pride”
Ní raibh aon bhród fágtha le cailliúnt aige. Agus cé gur ró-ghearrr a sheal linn agus gur bheag (cé mór in alán slite) an obair a bhí déanta aige, bhí damhsa Shiva feicthe aige, bhí sonas sroichte aige (enlightenment a ghlaonn na Yogi air) agus bhí sé réidh le dul.
Agus thuig sé freisin níos déanaí agus a chlann, a chairde agus pobal cheol Bhleá Cliath bailithe go brónach le slán a fhágáil leis ar mhaidin fhionnuar, glan ar scamaill, cois uaighe i reilig nua in aice Newland’s Cross. Ag deireadh óráid an tsagairt scread Keith amach ós ard. ‘Féach! Suas san spear!’ Agus ós ár gcionn bhí dhá scáird-eitileán tar éis trasnú ar a chéile agus X mór míoltach bán a fhágáil san spéar – an phóg is mó agus is áille dá bhfaca tú riamh. Níos déanaí, ‘s muid uilig bailithe in Áras Chrónain, i lár bhaile Chluain Dolcáin ag ceiliúradh saol Mic d’fhanamar fite fuaite ar a chéile le grá, cairdeas, brón agus thar aon ní eile ceol dár dtarraingt le chéile.
Leis an gceiliúradh faoi lán seoil, bhí ormsa éaló ón gcomhluadar le cara liom a phiocadh suas sa chathair. ‘S ar mo bhealach ar ais go Cluain Dolcáin bhí an spéar ar lasadh le dathanna spleodracha dheireadh an lae. Agus bhraitheas gur Mic a bhí ann, meangadh ar aghaidh, a chaipín ar a cheann ag ceilt a chluasa, a chromáin a giúcadh amach, a lámha ina phóca, a cheann casta siar ag glaoch ar a mhadra, ‘C’mon Dylan’ agus é ag gluaiseacht leis go mall, réidh, éasca díreach cosúil leis an ghrian mhaorga – ag dul fé.
“Come embrace the day
Before the day is over
I want to have some fun
Before I grow any older

Come embrace the day
And worry when we’re older
There is life left
In this dream I have to show yeh”

The King of Queen of Hearts
Bás Mic Christopher 29/9/01

In modern day physics it is generally accepted that all things are connected in some mysterious way and that the stuff of the world (us included) is merely comprised of different variants of the same basic elements.
Mic understood that before he left us. He understood it a couple of months before he died when he began to see life’s aura around flowers close to his Dartmouth Square flat. He understood it when he began to feel a huge sense of love from everyone he was meeting. A love that left him feeling a little uncomfortable, albeit very grateful.
He understood it also when, on a cold November evening, as he lay deep in a coma, on his deathbed in an Amsterdam hospital, while his gentle sister Maureen kept vigil. On the same night, in Dublin’s Vicar St, his friends had organised a concert to raise money for his folks who were toing and froing between Ireland and Holland. And when two of his oldest and boldest friends, Rónán and Glen began to sing ‘Friends’ (a song he wrote with Rónán), Glen felt that Mic was singing on stage alongside them and Maureen felt him letting the tiny grip he had on life go, leaving his body as pollen leaves a flower to go to somewhere new and unknown.
“And I’ve seen you hide
Seen you lose all your pride”
He had no pride left to lose. And although his time with us was much too short and his work incomplete (although complete in many, many ways) he had seen the Dance of Shiva, he was content with life |(the Yogi call it enlightenment) and he was ready to go.
And he understood it later when on a fresh clear-skied morning his family, friends and Dublin’s musical fraternity gathered by his graveside to pay respects and say goodbyes, in the new cemetery by Newland’s Cross. As the priest finished his oration Keith gave a loud shout. ‘Look up at the sky.’ And above us, to the west, two jet planes had crossed paths leaving an enormous white X in the sky – the biggest, most beautiful kiss you’ve ever seen. Later as we celebrated Mic’s life in Clondalkin’s Áras Chrónain, we huddled and cuddled together allowing love, friendship, sorrow and mostly music bring us even closer.
With the celebrations in full flow I had to slip off to pick someone up from town. On my way back to Clondalkin the sky was burning in a blaze of glorious colour. And I felt it was Mic, mischievous smile, hat hiding his ears, hips jutting forward, hands in his pockets, head turned calling his dog, ‘C’mon Dylan’ and he was walking slowly, nice and easy just like the sun – going down.
“Come embrace the day
Before the day is over
I want to have some fun
Before I grow any older

Come embrace the day
And worry when we’re older
There is life left
In this dream I have to show yeh”