Mike was the biggest teddy bear and gentlest giant I ever knew. I met Mike when he sat next to me in our high school speech class. One of our first assignments was to introduce a new-to-you classmate to the rest of the class, and Mike turned to me to partner up. We spent a few minutes chatting, and I still remember when we stood up in front of the group, he gave a little general background on me, and then proceeded to crack jokes and/or flatter me so he could say "oh, and she's probably turning bright red right now" - which I 100% was. Mike has told dad jokes from the time we were teenagers!

Mike and I never dated (much to the dismay of my parents, who adored him from the moment they met him), but we were each others' platonic date for many a dance! The first was our high school Senior Homecoming dance - there was a school tradition that if you were going to the dance with a guy on the football team, you'd wear his team hoodie to the homecoming game. Mike, being a foot taller and (at the time), far heavier than I, had a hoodie I could have worn as a dress! I thought I was VERY cool to be going to the dance with a guy on the football team, even if Mike would tell you he rode the bench most of the time, and I wore that hoodie SO proudly!

When I was in college in Peoria, Illinois, I would drive up to see Mike at Northwestern pretty regularly if we had a school break, and he drove to Peoria to visit me a few times too. The next dance we went to was my sorority's semi-formal. I was perpetually single and in need of a date, and it was a perfect excuse to party with Mike. A few months later, about a week before his fraternity's formal, he and his then-girlfriend had just split up, so I drove up to be his date. On every occasion, Mike would tear up the dance floor like nobody's business! He was the best dance partner!

Mike was also a rock during hard times as well. I was with Mike when my parents called to tell me they were divorcing, and he was my shoulder to cry on and didn't bat an eye at my hysterics. When my sister was diagnosed with late-stage cancer, Mike spent nearly 3 hours on the phone with me, talking me through things and calming me down. When she passed, his heart broke along with mine. I'll never forget his compassion, and that Mike was a dear friend to me at times when I really didn't have many friends.

I'm so grateful to have been able to spend time with Mike and his family in November, when his parents and in-laws had to go back to their respective homes and Lea needed extra hands. It was priceless to spend that time with Lea and Mike and the girls, making memories, knowing it was most likely the last time I would see him.

I baked an apple pie while I was at their home, and wrapped it up and froze it so the Grovers could have it for Thanksgiving the next week, after I drove back home. The last time I spoke to Mike was the day after Thanksgiving, when he was eating my leftover pie. He wanted to let me know that, "it's delectable". It was so unnecessary for him to call for such a little thing, but it made me smile, and still makes me smile to think of now.

Above and through it all, Mike really exemplified kindness. His bear hugs were legendary. Though I'm heartbroken that he's gone, my life is immeasurably better for having had him in it.

12/20/2020 Mike, I will never forget our conversations, how you introduced me to the artistry of classic rock, the footwork required of an offensive lineman, and the lessons of Minnesota childhood. We shared a lot of laughs with Kevin Tuazon and Michael Scalzitti on spring break at my parents' house in Florida, and a lot of fun playing intramural sports with Lambda Chi. I'm so grateful for your friendship and brotherhood. The road has been winding and difficult since our carefree days in college, and Lea Grover has been the most amazing partner and soul mate for you. It's easy to see the love between you both through your wonderful children. We love you, Mike, and your family. In ZAX

01/10/2021 Imagine a wave," he says. "Picture a wave in the ocean. It's only a shape, a constantly changing shape. You can measure it, it has height, depth, and velocity. You can watch it moving across the ocean, growing and changing. And eventually, the wave crashes against the shore. The wave is gone. But the water is still there." - Michael Grover
I miss you, Mike. I will never forget our friendship, in ZAX. Thank you, Lea Grover, for being such a wonderful soulmate for him and raising such an amazing family. You gave him the best years of his life, even through the ever-present shadow of death.
https://www.gofundme.com/f/love-for-the-grover-family

The night before the twins were born, Mike and Lea came over to my ex and my apartment and we made soup. I remember Lea laying prone on the chaise part of the sofa, groaning, lightly slapping her belly and telling the girls to stop fighting. And I remember Mike turning to me and doing that wry half-smile he did so frequently and saying quietly, "And yet, despite everything, we are excited!"

Mike was so many things-- a genius engineering mind, a clever humorist, a comic fanatic-- but I think he was born to be a husband and a dad. Watching him interact with Lea and the girls has been a soothing balm for me as I have recovered from some terrible interactions with dudes-- Mike Grover was Non-Toxic Masculinity at its finest. He was SO excited to be a husband, to be a father. He was good at it in a way that was almost unnerving from the outside, in the same way that Lea took to being a mom instantly. He lit up when he'd talk about the girls as they grew. When Lea left the room at a party, he'd stay engaged, but subtly scan the room to see when she'd returned. He loved so fiercely. And when you got to be around Mike with his family, you felt that love radiating out like beams of sunlight, and it was just a privilege to bask in it for a little bit. And I know that love is still going to beam out of this family in the same way.

I'll miss having someone I can quote 90's lyrics and movies back and forth with for hours (much to the annoyance of literally everyone around us), and his hugs, and when he would laugh so hard that he'd quietly start to tear up. We didn't see each other as often as I'd have liked once the Grovers moved to the burbs, but I am forever grateful that I got to know him. I'm better for it.

My most vivid memory of Michael and family is when I babysat Deborah and Sophia in Shakopee, MN. Michael and Lea went to a wedding and I cared for the girls at their hotel. Well, it wouldn’t be a Minnesota summer without tornado sirens. Sure enough, I’m watching Deborah and Sophia and hear the sirens. I call the front desk to help me carry the girls downstairs in their car seats. We spent the rest of the night in the hallway with strangers whose hearts were stolen by Deborah and Sophia’s head shaking side to side followed by a big grin to win over the audience. This must have been a new skill they had learned! Sirens ended but we remained in the hotel lounge until Michael and Lea came back where they scooped up their girls and what I can only imagine was a sigh of relief. I recall Michael’s kind eyes, gentle smile and words of gratitude. I don’t have a ton of memories to share of Michael but the ones I do have reflect the core of who I’ve learned him to be. An adoring father, husband, son, advocate and friend.

This is me with the Grovers the last year I was in Chicago. So it would have been around the 12th or maybe the 17th of December. I'm sorry, I don't remember any words that Mike said, or anecdotes he shared, I'm not always good at remembering things like that.
What I do remember is the feelings I felt in the presence of Mike and Lea, at their home. Safe, warm, loved. I remember Mike by the compassion I could feel radiating from him for everyone and everything around him. I remember the feeling when he sat down to talk to you, like you were the only person in the world, and what you said was of the utmost importance. I could see the love in his eyes as much as I could feel it, he loved so purely. I will miss Mike, and I am forever grateful to have known him.