what I could not say but I still wanted to share
In Loving Memory of Mike
Thank you all for being here today. It’s difficult to express what Mike meant to all of us, but seeing everyone here, I can feel the impact he had on so many lives. Mike was a man who didn’t speak much, but his actions were a language of their own—one of love, care, and quiet strength.
He wasn’t someone who needed praise or recognition. He showed us his love in the little things—the moments when he fixed things without being asked, the way he always took the time to help when someone needed it. Mike didn’t just give his time; he gave himself fully. Whether it was working on my truck, helping around the house, or being the rock that held everything together, Mike was always there, steady and reliable. His presence alone made everything feel safer and easier.
But it wasn’t just about the big things Mike did—it was in the quiet, everyday moments that his love truly shone. When I was younger, we spent so many hours together, playing paintball. Those moments were full of laughter, running around, trying to outsmart each other—it wasn’t just a game, it was a way of being together, of sharing something real. Then, there were the evenings spent playing games like Vigilante 8 and MW3. Every win, every loss—those were just parts of the bigger picture. The real gift was the time spent together, the way we grew closer with every laugh and every challenge we faced side by side.
What I’ll always carry with me is the way Mike made you feel. It wasn’t just about being there for you in the big moments—it was the quiet, subtle way he made sure you were never alone. He was always looking out for others, whether it was family, friends, or even the small animals that needed his help. Mike had this incredible love for animals, and I’ll never forget how he would always find a way to take care of the little creatures that needed help—whether it was nursing a wounded bird back to health or making sure a stray had food and shelter. He had a gentle heart that cared for all living things, no matter how small. That kindness is something I’ll never forget. It was part of what made him who he was—someone who believed in the quiet, constant act of caring.
Mike didn’t need to say much to show he loved us. His love wasn’t something that needed to be declared—it was something you felt every time he stepped in to help, every time he put others before himself. His strength wasn’t just in his hands, it was in the way he carried himself through life—calm, steady, unwavering. And in the hardest moments, it was his quiet support that helped us all carry on.
I wish we had more time with him. More moments to hear his voice, to share his wisdom, to feel his strength beside us. But even though we didn’t have as much time as we wanted, I’m beyond grateful for the time we did have. The lessons Mike taught us—through his actions, his strength, and his quiet love—are the things that will stay with me forever.
Mike, you weren’t just a father, a mentor, or a friend. You were the heart of our family, the protector, the one who always made sure we felt safe. You showed us how to love without needing anything in return, how to work hard, and how to care for others—even the smallest ones. You built more than just things—you built our lives, our hearts, and our memories. And I will carry you with me always.
Thank you for everything. Thank you for your love, your strength, and your kindness. You will always be in my heart, Mike. I love you, and I always will.
I miss hearing you working on something outside only to bring it to me and ask for me to do the small details or my opinion, “You’re eyes are better, you’re more creative” always worried you’d mess it up if you did. You never did. I miss you trying to get me to sand something with you but I’d always say “No, I hate sanding things” and you’d look at me like I was just making excuses but no, I really didn’t like sanding things. But, if I could be given the opportunity to hear you ask me again and again to work on something with you, I wouldn’t pass it up, I’d work even the hardest parts with you. Now the desk we were going to refurbish together still stands there and my heart too broken, you had the plan and I was going to help.. Now I’m lost where to even start. I’m still looking for you to tell me what to do.
In Loving Memory of Mike – A Father, Builder, and Protector
Mike was a man of few words, but his actions spoke louder than any words ever could. A devoted father who, despite the challenges life threw his way, always put his family first. His hands—worn from years of hard work—were never still. Whether he was building something with his own two hands, creating a world of adventure for his children, or fixing things others thought couldn’t be fixed, he was always there.
He was a tall, strong man with a presence that made you feel safe. His strength wasn’t just in his height, but in the quiet way he took care of us, offering support and protection without needing to say much. No task was too difficult, no problem too big. He taught us how to face challenges head-on and how to appreciate the small moments of comfort—like knowing that with Mike around, we were always safe.
Mike had a soft heart, though he didn’t always show it. He saved every small creature that needed help—from squirrels to raccoons—and kept a treasure box full of memories that meant more to him than he ever let on. To us, he was a hero—not just in the games we played, but in every part of life. He stood between us and the world, offering us his strength, his wisdom, and his quiet protection.
Whether in Minecraft, where he set traps with a smile, or in real life, where he showed us how to work hard and give without expecting anything in return, Mike made everything feel possible. He believed in us, and he showed us what it meant to be strong, even when times were tough. His actions spoke louder than any words, and through them, we always knew how much he cared.
Some of my favorite memories are of the hours we spent playing Vigilante 8 on the N64, where we raced through the wildest battles, working together to outsmart the enemy. It wasn’t just a game—it was time spent bonding, laughing, and competing in a way that made every moment feel like an adventure. Whether it was taking down opponents or just goofing off, those hours felt like the world was ours. And then there was MW3, where we made the perfect team. His steady hand, my quick reflexes—we won so many matches together, and even when we lost, it was still a win, just being together.
There are so many memories that will never fade—the quiet hours spent on the GameCube, the battles in World of Tanks, and the teamwork in MW3. Those moments weren’t just games—they were lessons in trust, in working together, and in never giving up. Even when life was hard, Mike kept us laughing, kept us learning, and kept us close.
Mike may never have said it outright, but we always knew how much he loved us. It was in the sacrifices he made, the way he supported us, and the way he gave everything he had, quietly and without asking for recognition. He wasn’t just building things with his hands—he was building us up with his strength, his resilience, and his care. His love for us was shown in everything he did.
We wish we could have given him everything he ever wanted, especially that Viking boat ride. But in the end, we are so thankful for the time we had with him. His spirit, his strength, and his love will always guide us. Mike may not have asked for much, but he’ll never be forgotten. His legacy lives on in the lessons he taught us and the example he set.
We are sad to have lost him, but we are forever grateful to have had him as our father. He will always be our hero.
For Mike, My Dad
You kept to yourself with those you didn’t know,
But with us, your love was always on show.
With hands that built, and a heart full of care,
You showed your love in ways so rare.
Around the world, you'd stand apart,
But with us, you gave your whole heart.
Your strength, your wisdom, your steady hand,
Guided us all, you helped us stand.
No matter how dark the night would be,
With you around, we were safe and free.
In every storm, in every fight,
You were our shield, our guiding light.
You taught me how to fix, how to create,
How to stand strong, no matter the weight.
A man of action, not many words,
But in everything you did, love was heard.
We fought side by side in pixelated skies,
A shield in hand, the world at our side.
In every game, in every win,
I always knew you'd have my back again.
You fixed my broken toys with care,
Without a word, you'd always be there.
Through pain and struggle, you gave all you could,
A father’s love, steady and good.
You weren’t one for showing your heart,
But in your actions, you played the part.
You saved the small things, the wild, the weak,
A gentle soul, though never to speak.
And though you never wore the name “Dad,”
You were my father, the best I’ve had.
In every laugh, in every fight,
You were my shield, my guiding light.
I miss the days when we’d play as one,
When the world was ours, just father and son.
And if I could, I’d give you your wish,
A Viking boat, a final bliss.
But now I’ll carry you in my heart,
In every game, in every part.
You taught me how to stand, to fight,
And I’ll remember you, day and night
A
Anonymous
January 4, 2025
In loving Memory of Mike from Wendy and Sharon (Ireland)
D
Diana Schinzel
January 3, 2025
I never had the chance to meet Michael, but I know we would have gotten along well. He was the best father that anyone could have asked for, and I am eternally grateful he was there for Ariel and his family. He will be sorely missed, but he leaves behind one of the strongest people I know.
I miss giving you a million hugs throughout the day and hanging off you until you were forced to drag me around the house until you poked my side calling “eagle claw” or being gross with the big smile on your face. I miss making you bend over so I could kiss your cheek whenever I could. You gave the absolute best hugs daddy, it feels so wrong to go to bed without telling you “good night, love you” and making that ridiculous kissy sound just to hear it repeated back across the house. I miss you so much.
M
Michelle Gallas
January 3, 2025
His memory lives on.
Thank you for all the rides home after work. Always on gard as I made the deposits, and always playing the best music for the ride home. I will miss you and your visits to the store. It always made my day seeing you, Ariel, and Chris. You were greatly loved and will be forever remembered as the amazing man you were.
C
Christine
January 3, 2025
There are too many memories to share… but one thing I was sure of, no matter what; we had each other’s back. I never said thank you enough.You were truly one of the best dads I ever saw. You lived and breathed for the kids and did everything you could for anyone who needed help. I hope you know how much you meant to us. And thank you for not calling me ‘the crazy cat lady’ because we both know I am. I pray your dad was waiting with one of those bear hugs you both gave. I will miss you forever and love you longer than that.
L
Love Krystin and Donna
January 3, 2025
Remember that we love and care about you. Mike was a kind a loving man, a great father and a loving soul.You will always be in ours hearts.
I remember you trying to always teach me something, no matter the topic always saying “You’ll need to know this when I’m gone” or “You’re gonna have to be the one to do this when I’m dead.” I never believed you and always replied “Well that won’t be for a LOOONNGG time, so we have time.” Nowadays I’m regretting saying that and wish I could listen now, but as you’d say “Hindsight is always 20/20” and now I’m left confused and lost, you did so much for us, for me and I’m not sure where to go from here without you. Thank you for what you did teach me. I’ll do my best to remember everything you did say and do.
I’ll miss our daily maybe even more than that, smoke sessions out on the carport where we’d talk about anything and everything from old stories, to family, from health, to silly topics. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to smoke without you without crying. You’re my smoke buddy.
I’ll miss you waking me up every morning and telling me “You’re wasting your day” and “Come on, let’s go make some coffee.” Only for me the drag about until I finally got up an hour later and make us coffee the “right way” and than watch the news together, debating whatever we saw or heard on it. Or our ADHD would have us totally forgetting the news cause we started arguing which Marvel characters would beat who.
