Toute mon affection.je garde un excellent souvenir de notre cousin Michael jouant aux boules.
Sincères condoléances à sa compagne et toute sa famille.
Christiane bergez picard

Psalm 23:1-6
Michael  never feared death, as he was totally committed to his Lord and Savior. His greatest concern was for the people left behind. He cared for the lost whom didn't know Jesus. He gave freely of his gifts including time and money.  He will be greatly missed.

Votre famille BERGEZ de France, particuliérement attristée par le départ de notre cousin Mickael vous livre la derniére image de lui imprimee dans nos coeurs : des eclats de rire qui faisaient pétiller ses yeux bleus en évoquant ses billes de collection. Il avait une âme d'enfant généreux et sincère.
Profonde affection.
Christiane et Jean-Claude BERGEZ  PICARD

(Part II, Continued Story)

I still make the pilgrimage to Tent Rock about every ten years simply because I feel the presence of the Lord. It’s a mountaintop experience that I never want to let go of. My heart pounds as my tear-ridden eyes gravitate toward the coastal beaches of Pedro Point, the city’s end, and then I look north and can see all the way to San Francisco. 
I close my eyes as I stand on Tent Rock and feel the breeze across my face. I am reminded of a bible verse in John 3:8 “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.”
My dear brother Michael, I am forever indebted to you for showing me Jesus Christ. There can be no greater gift, no better ending. When I go to Tent Rock again, I know I will hear your voice because you will always be in my heart.  

Your loving brother,

Danny









I have many fond memories of my older brother Michael growing up in Pacifica, California. Pacifica is where Mike spent the first twelve years of his life. There is a two-and-a-half-year age difference between us, and it was always an honor when he let me hang out with him. One particular adventure that comes to mind that I will always cherish is when we lived in Vallemar, Pacifica. Now keep in mind, this is back in 1963 when you could go as far as you wanted just as long as you were home before dinner. 
The Pacifica Coastal Mountain range surrounds Vallemar and on top of one of those mountains is a large rock called Tent Rock. We named it Tent Rock because the rock formation was in the shape of a tent. It’s also where we scattered our mom’s ashes thirty-seven years later. The trail is barely visible today, but the path we once walked has never left my mind. At the tender age of six, I reached the Tent Rock summit, thanks to Mike. We made several other trips to Tent Rock before moving to Linda Mar, another section of Pacifica, a year later. We even let our little four-year-old brother, Chris, tag along with us occasionally. We used him like a pack mule to haul and guard our lunches. Those short little legs of his had to double-time to keep up with our rigorous pace as we made our way up the steady climb. There were always stops along the way. One of the stops we made was a place called Grasshopper Hill, sort of a base camp—a place to refresh and eat a cookie before our final ascent to the summit.  
From Tent Rock, we had an unobstructed view of all five valleys that make up Pacifica. This was our sanctuary, where we caught grasshoppers, snakes, lizards, and poison oak. Life was simple. You climbed a tree because it was there and explored a creek to find its end. 
(Note: End of part 1. See Part II for continued story in another entry)



Praise God, that our Mike has gone home and is finally at peace.
Mike came to live with his Dad and me on Gilardy st in Concord, ca
and I found out what a sweet kid he was. We got along well, while he shared a little guest house with Steve, my son. 
It was a real house full with my 4 and on w/e Lou's 3 and of course all their friends. I learned to love Mike like my own son;  he always treated me with love and respect. The biggest joy for me was when he found the Lord. Mike and those special days on Gilardy st. will always be in my heart.                      
    

Michael wanted to share with us the beauty of his favorite fishing spot on the Feather River.   The Lord did not grant us all that opportunity.  Instead, we look forward to Michael showing us around the beauty of heaven and introducing us to One who is our brother's delight!

Prelude To Michael's Song

I wrote this song or poem when I was twenty five years old. It was my first time at being a father and I was in love with my son and I still am!

MICHAEL'S SONG

When my little son sez daddy,
All the world lights up for me,
His smile is like an Indian summer,
It beams when he plays horsey on my knee.

When my little son sez daddy,
I'm so proud that I could fly,
His eyes are very blue like his mother's,
They sparkle even when he's going to cry.

I know he really loves his daddy,
And daddy really loves his little boy,
When he plays with all his toys and charms,
And he hugs me with his chubby little arms.

When my little son sez daddy,
At bedtime comes a kiss and nighty night,
When darkness closes in mister sandman sprinkles him,
And daddy's little boy is beddy bye,
And daddy's little boy is beddy bye.


AMEN!
Love You Michael,
From Your Daddy







Oh, our camping trips together as teenagers- Camp Mather, Desolation Valley! Soon we'll be camping together again in Cannan's Happy Land enjoying the presence of our Lord!

AVIS DE DÉCÈS

Michael Stephen Bergez

1 septembre 1954 – 28 juin 2022

Mountain View Funeral & Cremation

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