Charles Joseph MIhelic: Obituary

Charles Joseph MIhelic, MD, most recently of Shinnston WV, passed away on the morning of February Second, 2020. Doctor MIhelic lived a full life that would be hard to summarize in the space here. Joining the Army in 1969, he left his hometown of Saint Joseph, Missouri where he was born October 19th, 1951 and saw the world. With the experience gained as a medic, he was inspired to continue his education at the University of Missouri - Kansas City where he graduated with both a bachelor's degree in chemistry and an MD.  During this time, he met the love of his life, Mary Douglass Bowman while they were both living in Alaska, marrying September 13, 1977. The couple moved back to the lower 48 and he served communities in the midwest as an emergency room physician. From there, he rejoined the Army as an officer, serving in various capacities including aiding in the liberation of Kuwait in 1991 during Operation Desert Storm. Leaving the military, he made a home in West Virginia, touching many lives in a quarter century of work prior to his recent retirement.

Doctor Mihelic was preceded in death by both his parents, Carl and Catherine “Mimi” Mihelic (Waitkos) and his stepfather Cecil “Babe” Waitkos. Many are left who mourn him and in whose memories he lives on. A complete roll-call here would be impossible, but it starts with his loving family: Wife Mary MIhelic of Shinnston; brother John Patrick Mihelic of Saint Joseph; Daughters Amanda MIhelic and Catherine Schlobohm; Sons John Edgar Mihelic and Norman Mihelic; Niece Emily Mihelic; Nephew John Joseph MIhelic; Son-in-law Scott Schlobohm; Daughter-in-law Anita MIhelic; and grandchildren Lilly Rae Wissler, Joseph Gary and Bonnie Louise Schlobohm. We are remiss not to mention the many friends of the family for whom he served as a mentor and a father figure. He will be greatly missed.

Visitations will be held from 2 pm to 4 pm and 6 pm to 8 pm at Harmer's Funeral home in Shinnston, WV on Thursday February 6th, 2020. On Friday the 7th a Celebration of Life will be held at the American Legion in Shinnston from 5:30 pm to 9 pm. We invite all friends, family, and past coworkers to attend these functions and celebrate the life of a wonderful husband, father, healer, and friend to many in the community.

In lieu of flowers, he requests that donations can be made in his name to Wounded Warriors or the Harrison County Humane Society.

The day my father died

The day my father died was an unseasonably warm day where I lived.

The sun was shining for the first time in what felt like months.

We had stayed out late the night before, so we lingered in bed, and the cats enjoyed the sunbeams. We did our normal morning things - made love and I cooked pancakes and eggs.

We were watching a random episode of Bob’s Burgers and digesting as I reached over for the phone to mindlessly play with it, putting off the moment I would have to start my homework.

The day my father died was notable for others. The Chiefs were playing in their first Super Bowl since my father was a young man. Though I think almost thirty years of living in northern West Virginia made him more of a Steelers fan than the team of his youth in the northwest Missouri. 

The groundhog was to make an appearance, but the groundhogs are many and I still haven’t seen their answers. The date was funny, a palindrome of note.

None of that matters because I picked up the phone and I saw my sister was calling. I love her but we don’t chat on the phone. Not a good sign. She asked if I was in a good place to hear bad news, a thoughtful touch we learn in sales training applied to a different sort of phone call.

The day my father died was today, and I’m still not sure what to do. I cried. I cleaned some dishes. I took a walk. Just last night in the shower I was thinking of how little time there is left, for all of us. I lamented that I wasn’t closer to him but wasn’t sure how to start a conversation - he is very taciturn. Was, was very taciturn. Now more so. 

The good thing religion does is give us community, I thought. But then I realized today that it gives us ritual, a guidance on steps to take to mourn when we want to reach out but there’s nothing to grasp.

Team Mihelic! (A Love Poem)

When I first played football
I was a fat kid. They put fat kids
Up front, on the lines, where they 
Fight with other fat kids. The point,
They tell you, is to either tackle a guy
Or to make sure your guy 
Does not get tackled.

That was my job for ten years
Because for some reason even 
When I lost weight, I was still
A fat kid.

I’m still a fat kid, and in a way
It is still my job. But it is more 
Metaphorical here. My job is 
To make sure you aren’t tackled.
I’m not always successful, 
but I try my best.

There’s no one that I would rather
Have on my team, to help me tackle
Or to protect from being tackled, 
Depending on the exact situation
Or how we can map this metaphor 
Onto real life.