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From a eulogy at Mike's funeral.....

"MY MAN FINN" My name is Mike Banahan, and I m proud to tell you that I was one of Finny s Boys . Now, some of you may not know this, but Finny s Boys had their own language of sorts. I m not referring to those brokers that Mike worked with who also have their own broker-language, which I never could understand. No, I m talking about Mike s friends. We d say things like who-ha and get off Banny . I can still hear him saying that But that s how we spoke. Whether it be a ballgame, a bar, a baptism or a funeral, it didn t matter we d speak with a wink, a bear-hug, some knuckles or a cheer. With such a gesture or phrase, we would say more than we could with 100 words. In our way we could say: How s the job, the wife, the kids and sure I d love another beer - All at the same time. That s why I had to chuckle yesterday when Erin asked me to say a few words at this mass, and added that Mike thought I spoke eloquently. The way we spoke to each other, I couldn t begin to guess what made him think that. Anyway, as I thought about this mass, I knew I had to use some different words to describe my-man Finn, and the feelings people have for him. To start, I guess the simplest word I could use would be: MINE. Now, I m not talking about myself or Erin necessarily, but rather the sense of ownership Mike s friends and family have for him. Through the years, I noticed that people met, and got to know Finn, in lots of different ways but invariably developed a unique bond with him. As Mike s roommate before Erin stole him away I watched as Mike s new acquaintances developed such bonds, and saw the feeling of mine in his Kingston and Richmond friends. There are certainly other words or phrases to describe Mike: There s .ambitious hard working or tireless; Or bright or FUN [as Frank wrote]; Perhaps confident assertive or articulate. Most of all though, Finn was IMMENSELY ENDEARING. He was the guy people just wanted to be around. Whether to experience his boyish charm, to hear his interesting stories [boy, could he tell a story] or just for the comfort of hang n with Finny; the bottomline was that people couldn t get enough of him. Now there were Finny names: Mike and Finnegan , became: Finnster Finnman Finney , or just ole FINN . Or others like: Husband brother son and DADDY . And there were Finny golf lines: Long ..and straight; Touch .and clutch; Wedges that needed to go , No Bite ; Putts that were firm ; Titles like champion and qualifier ; And did I mention long .sooooo longgggg . But, in simplest terms, my pick for the best word to describe Mike is still MINE . As the last bachelor to live with Finn, I saw his years of friendships. I remember: The Nash boys and a certain ball & chain incident; B-School s tire-lock and sitting on the roof with Purcell and Finn; Body-shots with Erin and the girls on the upper-Eastside; Finn s infamous visit to Weiss father-in-law s house; Flat tires with Glen in Philly; and many more Each time, I saw the unique bonds people had with him. Their special relationship, where they knew that on some level Finny was theirs. Where pretense and facades were put aside. Where a true connection existed. Where I knew the real Mike, and Mike knew the real me, and we were all happier for it. I guess I should add my favorite Finn story one which illustrates his wonderful, mischievous side, and a time that he was MINE. About 12 years ago, we were living together in Hoboken. Now Mike had lived with me throughout law school, and put up with my late nights and overall nervousness. Well, after law school was over, I took the bar exam and the way it worked was that you d get the results by mail about 3 months after the test. Eventually the day came for the results to arrive by mail, and all the law students knew it. I called Mike and told him today was the day. Later, when I got home from work, I looked through the window as I unlocked the door and saw Mike. There he was, holding an envelope up to the desklamp, with his head cocked sideways. As I open the door, he hears me and knows he s caught. Without missing a beat, he turns and hands me the envelope with this huge grin on his face. We open the envelope together and see that I ve passed. We proceeded to grab each other in a bear-hug, and dance in a circle yelling like kids for about 10 minutes. It was pure joy, and to this day I truely don t know who was happier about the results at the time.... I have to say that I honestly believe that each of us have a finite number of relationships where we truly connect. Some have more than others and Mike had many. When I look around today at the people celebrating Mike s life, I know that many will miss the mine relationship they have with him. I know I do. But I ve learned how to deal with it. Lately, there s been lot s of helpful info out there on handling loss. In fact, the best advice I ve heard was from an elderly person. I think the elderly have a unique perspective on death. I once asked an older person on how she could smile at the memory of a person we both knew who died unexpectedly at a young age. She shared with me a secret.... She said that when old people die, many have met and known the person. But, when a young person dies, only a special few have been lucky enough to know him and the others don t even know what they ve missed. Finnman, I know you re listening...[you couldn t help but peak]... I want to thank you for the GIFT of the time we ve shared.... For the times you were MINE. I love you my-man. --banny

Monday, May 15, 2006 at 11:29:05 (EDT)
Finny lived his life by never giving up, always trying his hardest and was the best at bringing the most out of everyone he met.
Jeff Craig