Michael Leon Workman

Michael Leon Workman, born October 2, 1965, in Bartlesville, Oklahoma, made his grand - and likely dramatic - entrance into heaven on February 17, 2026. If there's a celestial tool bench, a fishing hole, or a place to tell a really good story up there, you can bet he found it within the first five minutes. And if heaven has Harley-Davidsons, he's already got one humming along streets of gold.

Michael wasn't the kind of person you forget. He had a spirit that filled a room, a laugh that carried, and a love for life you could hear in the roar of a motorcycle. He believed life was meant to be lived out loud - not quietly, not halfway, but fully and freely.

He loved the open road, the sound of engines, the wind in his face, and that familiar feeling of freedom. But what mattered most to him wasn't the ride - it was the people riding beside him in life. His friends, his family, and his Recovery family, who meant more to him than they may ever know. Recovery wasn't just something he attended; it was something he lived. He encouraged others, lifted them up, celebrated their victories, and shared his own strength in ways that changed lives.

Born to George and Carolyn Workman, Michael grew into a man who never met a stranger and never turned down a chance to help. Whether he was fixing something, teasing someone, or telling a story that may or may not have been 100% factual, he did everything with heart.

Michael is survived by his loving wife, Amber, who somehow managed to keep up with him - a feat deserving of both admiration and possibly a medal. To her, Michael was more than a husband; he was a partner, a steady place in the storms of life, and the person who could somehow make things feel okay, even when they weren't.

He leaves behind his mom Carolyn his two children, Tash and husband Nate; and his grandson Asher Armstrong, who will forever miss his jokes, his hugs, and the way he could turn any ordinary moment into an adventure. He is also survived by his son Dalton Shrum and three bonus children he proudly claimed as his own: Jessica, Emily, and Junior.

His brother Kenny and wife Kerri Workman, and his sister Lisa Medlin his nieces Kandis Medlin, Aubree and husband Dale Bohannan, Keisha Spears and nephew Kenmon and wife Morgan Workman.

Michael leaves behind memories that will never fade: the stories, the stubbornness, the laughter, the strength, the kindness, and the love he gave so freely. Our hearts may be broken, but we carry those pieces of him with us - and in that way, he never truly leaves.

Michael lived boldly, loved fiercely, and left the world a little funnier, a lot warmer, and so much better than he found it. Though our hearts are heavy, we can only imagine the reunion he's having now - probably cracking jokes, probably making someone laugh, and definitely causing just a tiny bit of harmless chaos. Heaven doesn't know what it's in for.

Today, we don't just say goodbye.

We celebrate a life that mattered.

A love that mattered.

A man who mattered.

Michael may be riding free now, but the sound of his life - the joy, the love, the impact he made - will echo in all of us forever.

"I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith," - 2 Timothy 4:7