FRIENDS: "Mouse"

I met ‘Mouse’ in late 1975. I was 16 and had just been hired for my first real job. It was at a fast food joint in Norwalk, California called Pup ‘n’ Taco. Mouse had worked there awhile and he helped train me in the fine art of rolling a burrito, making a taco and all the other duties associated with the preparation of quick and inexpensive Mexican cuisine.

 

Mouse was my age. We were both about halfway through our junior year of high school… although we attended different schools.

 

He was introduced to me as ‘Mouse’ and knowing that it couldn’t be his actual name, I wondered how he had picked up the nickname. When he spoke, I presumed I had my answer because his voice was sort of high pitched and squeaky… you know… like a mouse. I worked under that assumption for months but eventually was told the story about how he earned that moniker.

 

Mouse was very shy and spoke as little as possible. One day, a customer came through the drive through lane and placed her order. Mouse was working the window and something happened, I don’t recall what it was, but it required that Mouse explain to her that a mistake of some sort was made. Mouse was mortified and retreated to the back of the store in hiding. The shift supervisor ordered him to get back to the window and talk to his customer. Mouse refused.

 

The supervisor asked him, “What are you… a man or a mouse?” And he responded in all sincerity, “A MOUSE!”

 

And the name stuck. Even his work badge identified him as ‘Mouse.’

 

Mike was his real name. Mike Resendez. A young, shy, humble, intelligent, hardworking Hispanic kid with a keen sense of humor and an absolute heart of gold. I think these character traits are what drew me to Mouse and we instantly became friends.

 

We began hanging out together outside of work. One of our favorite things to do was to go bowling every Friday after our shift ended. We closed the store at 11PM, cleaned up, counted money and prepared the store deposit. By the time we were done with that, it would be about one o’clock in the morning. Wonderbowl in Downey was open 24 hours. The lanes were largely vacant and they would let us have a lane each. We would bowl for hours.

 

I used to joke with Mouse about his ‘uniform.’ There was never any diversity in his fashion. No matter what, no matter where… he wore a t-shirt with a pocket, a pair of dark Levi corduroys and a pair of navy blue Van’s tennis shoes. Always! Without fail! Even when we played in a softball league together and everyone else had baseball pants and cleats… Mouse wore his cords and Van’s.

 

I was very young in my faith during that time but it played such an important role in my life. Because of that, I’d share my beliefs with Mouse and we would get into some very deep conversations about God and Christianity. Mouse was raised Catholic, as was most with a Mexican heritage, but he seemed to have a genuine interest in my journey of faith.

 

I invited Mouse to church and to my delight, he accepted the invitation. It wasn’t long before his attendance was expanded to Youth Group and our youth activities. Our Youth Director, Greg, quickly took a liking to Mouse and the two became pretty close. Mouse embraced the Christian faith and was baptized shortly thereafter. I was thrilled for him.

 

Our church had about a dozen buses that we used to pick up children for Sunday School and Mouse became a ‘Bus Captain.’ He would visit the kids on his route every Saturday morning and then ride the bus to pick them up every Sunday morning. Mouse absolutely loved those kids and they loved him right back.

 

After high school, Mouse and I went off to Bible College together. I studied for the ministry and he just wanted to attend for a year to take a deeper dive into the Bible and theology. Our college had a dress code and Mouse had to abandon his ‘uniform’ in favor of dress slacks, a button down shirt, a tie and dress shoes. We had a good laugh about that.

 

In 1978, I changed churches as my brother became the pastor of a church in Downey and he wanted me to come work with the teens. Mouse made the switch with me and was my right-hand man as we attempted to lead a group that wasn’t too much younger than we were. But it was fun and I relied on Mouse tremendously during that time.

 

I got married in 1980 and, of course, Mouse was a groomsman. I remember kidding with him about trading in his cords and t-shirt for a tux and he kidded right back about wearing his Van’s with his tux. At least… I hoped he was kidding. Thank goodness… he was.

 

After I was married, Mouse would come over to our apartment every Sunday night and watch “The Rockford Files.” We loved that show and it just became another element that bonded us together as close friends… brothers, even. At some point, I quit calling him ‘Mouse’ and started referring to him by his given name… Mike. I don’t know why. It just felt like maybe an adult didn’t want to be referred to as ‘Mouse’ anymore. I think he appreciated it when I made that switch.

 

Eventually… life took us down separate paths and our closeness naturally dissipated. In 1993, my family and I moved halfway across the country… to Iowa. For years, after we moved… I would call Mike on every December 12^th, his birthday, and 24 days later, on January 5^th, he’d call me… on my birthday.

 

Eventually, Mike married a girl he’d met in church. They have kids and grandchildren. We’ve had a handful of phone conversations in recent years where we would catch up on each other’s lives.

 

Some month’s back… I was reflecting on my and Mike’s friendship. I do a lot of reflecting these days… as the pages of my life’s calendar rapidly fly into the wind. And I wondered if I was as good of a friend to Mike as he was to me. Surely not. How could I have been? Mike was the perfect friend and I loved him for it.

 

So, I shot him a text. I asked him if I was a good friend to him all those years ago… because I had some doubts about that. I thought maybe I was too pushy… too overbearing… too insistent… too strong willed. I wanted to apologize if that is how I was.

 

Mike responded immediately. He assured me that I was NOT those things. He said, “You’ve been my best friend for 45 years!”

 

I wept as I read his text. I weep now as I type these words.

 

Friendships are precious and many times we don’t place enough value in those intimate relationships. I thank God for those special individuals He has put in my path and they don’t come any better than Mike Resendez.

Edit (12/12/25)
Today is December 12, 2025. Mike's 67th birthday. 

I haven't been able to wish him Happy Birthday for several years as his phone number has changed. Mike has really been on my mind this year and I have tried my hardest to track him down. Several months ago, I went on his wife, Jannel's Facebook page, one she no longer is active on, and looked at her "friends" to gather the contacts of all her relatives. I then sent private messages to them all, about 15 in total, asking if they had any current contact info on Mike or Jannel. I heard back from only one of them and they couldn't help me.

When I woke up this morning and looked at the calendar, I was reminded that today is Mike's birthday and despite my lack of luck in contacting him this year, I thought I'd give it a try again. In my search, I came across an email address for Jannel that I don't remember seeing before. Though pessimism permeated my mind, I sent a short email, telling Jannel that I hoped to wish my old buddy a happy birthday.

Several hours later, my phone rang and Jannel's name popped up. "Great!" I thought, Mike is calling me! Finally!

Jannel's voice was on the other end and she wasted no time in telling me that Mike just passed away yesterday morning. I was devastated. I AM... devastated. Why couldn't I have had the opportunity to talk with my friend just one more time? Why?

Mike had suffered from diabetes and high blood pressure. Apparently he had a stroke a month ago and lost his ability to swallow. Mike's health went downhill from there and yesterday morning, he met Jesus face to face.

I love you, Mike. And though I am greatly saddened by your passing, I am comforted in knowing that I will see you again in the not too distant future. I can picture it now... your pocketed t-shirt, navy blue cords, dark blue Vans... topped off with a well deserved halo above your head.

Psalm 116:15

"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints."