There are no words to truly express the loss of my twin brother, Michael. From the very beginning, he was my other half—my constant. Losing him so unexpectedly has left a space in my heart that can never be filled.
There were five of us, all born within five years, with Michael and me being the last two—twins. That bond was something truly special. Michael loved all of us deeply—Jimmy, Lucille, and Jeanine—and he extended that same love to our spouses as well: Tony, Scott, Nancy, my late husband Jim, and my Randy. Family meant everything to him.
Michael was full of life. He had a way of walking into any room and lifting it with his energy, his laughter, and his incredible sense of humor. He made people feel good just by being around him. He loved to joke, and whenever he showed people pictures of me, he’d laugh and say, “She stole my youth—she’s the one who looks younger.” That was Michael—always trying to make me feel good and making everyone around him smile.
He also shared a very special bond with our mom. He would call her and talk to her about anything, and those conversations meant so much to both of them. Our mom loved him deeply and will treasure her memories of him, just as all of us will.
Michael was also a wonderful uncle to Anthony, Lauren, Jimmy, Michael, Stephanie, Ashley, Jimmy, and Nicole. He loved them deeply and brought the same warmth, humor, and caring spirit into their lives that he gave to everyone around him.
Michael truly valued his friendships. He spoke often about his friends Andrew and Jackie—how honored he was to stand as Andrew’s best man, and how much he admired Jackie’s amazing singing voice. He also talked about his friends at JCs, especially Gradey and so many others who made him feel special and appreciated. He spoke so fondly of Linda and Tommy as well. He was also very proud of his friend Matt and his service. These friendships meant the world to him, and it showed in the way he talked about each of them with such warmth and pride.
He also had such a gentle, caring heart. Whenever Michael came to visit, all the pets seemed to gravitate toward him—not just at my house, but at my brothers’ and sisters’ homes as well. It was like they just knew how kind he was. He gave them attention, comfort, and love so naturally—it was just another beautiful part of who he was.
Michael also had a real talent for cooking—honestly, like a chef, even though he wasn’t one. I, on the other hand, had no talent at all in the kitchen, but I happily took on the role of his cleaner and assistant. Those moments together meant so much to me.
What meant the most to me was the way he always showed up for me. During difficult times, Michael had a way of making everything feel lighter with his huge personality and incredible sense of humor. He made hard moments easier just by being himself, and by making sure I never felt alone.
Being his twin is something I will carry with me forever. Our bond doesn’t end here—it lives on in my heart.
Michael, I will miss you more than words can say. I love you, always.

My brother Michael was bigger than life. He taught all of us how to love deeply and laugh often. We shared so many wonderful moments with him, expecially around the table, where good meals and good company meant everything to him.
Michael was a true connoisseur of food and drink, and there was nothing he loved more than breaking bread with the people he cared about, and we loved sharing those moments with him just as much.
At the dinner table. Michael had the best stories to tell and would have all of us laughing. Those moments of laughter were just as much a part of him as the meals he so carfully prepared.
When it came to preparing a holiday meal, Michael was the chef, the one in charge. He took it seriously, making sure everrything was just right... including making sure I didn't over cook the filet mignon.
One Thanksgiving, he stood carving the turkey while sampling it at the same time. He called me, Lauren, and Nancy over so we could all taste it with him. My husband Tony, watching this unfold, joked that it would be nice if we left some turkey for eveyone else.
Dinner was always accompanied by a good bottle of California Merlot. It had to be decanted, of course properly aerate, just the way Mihael liked it. And the wine glasses mattered too. Without fail, you'd hear him ask, "Where's my special wine glass?.
Those moments, full of laughter, love, and just the right touch of perfection are the ones we will hold onto forever.
Michael, you gave us so much, your love, your laughter, your warmth, and your joy for life. We will miss you more than words can express, but we will carry you with us in every shared meal, every toast, and every moment of laughter. You will always be a part of us.
And every time we gather around a table, raise a glass, or share a meal, we will feel your presence with us, smiling, and reminding us to savor not just the food, but each other.
I look forward to the day when we can break bread together again in Heaven.
Rest peacefully, my brother. You will always be loved, and you will never be forgotten.

I would like to share my remarks from the visiting for my Uncle Mike for those who were unable to attend:

My Uncle Mike was one of a kind. He had a personality, an energy, a presence that was electric. He was loud, sometimes rowdy, and completely dynamic. He was always laughing. He loved to tease, to poke fun, and he had a gift for storytelling. The retelling of his favorite stories was always a highlight of every holiday we spent together.

I’ll never forget how he started a protection services agency while still in elementary school, put my Aunt Jeanine’s cat on trial for causing some perceived mischief, or how he and Cousin Anthony once terrorized my Pop Pop with a wolf mask. Those stories say so much about who he was—creative, mischievous, and fun.

He was my godfather, and he always looked out for me. He supported me at horse shows, helped move me into college, and even taught me how to drive long before I was old enough—letting me steer his green pickup truck down a mountain road toward the family ranch in Montana.

He taught me not to take life too seriously, that it’s meant to be enjoyed and to have as much fun as possible in every moment.

We shared a love of movies, good food, cooking, trying new restaurants, and bottles of red wine. When I moved to Astoria, we would often meet for dinner, an invitation I always eagerly awaited.

When you were with my uncle, life felt like an adventure—one you never wanted to end.

And even though that adventure has been cut short, I know his spirit stays with us. It's in the laughter we share, the stories we keep telling, and the way we choose to live our lives a little more boldly, just like he did.

I will miss him deeply, and I will carry him with me always.

He wasn’t just an uncle, he was the cool uncle. The one everyone looked forward to seeing, the one who could turn any moment into something fun, something unforgettable. He was the life of every party, not because he tried to be, but because his energy, his laughter, and his spirit naturally brought people together.

Uncle Mike was an amazing cook which brought everyone together and that's what really mattered, the laughs we shared and the memories we all made.

He was truly one of a kind, genuine soul who made life brighter for everyone lucky enough to know him. He will be deeply missed, but never forgotten.
Rest in peace Uncle Mike.