Michael Louis DiTore

January 25, 1992 - September 13, 2022 I will always love you and I think the whole world should know about you. Words of Remembrance from September 16, 2022:

could he be any more handsome?!

This is surreal. It was in 8th grade that I sat in Mr. Sullivan’s math class at Keith Valley, eyeing up this boy in his green polo and bright neon sneakers. We passed notes back and forth. He had hair that should have been cut 6 months prior but I thought it was adorable and he used words too big for an 8th grader. That boy became the love of my life. We fell in love in the most awkward phase of our lives and the odds were all stacked against us. We very quickly became inseparable. And we made it.

It wasn’t hard to want to be around Mike. Mike’s goodness and genuine nature was addicting. Rare, even. I have received so many messages from people that have at some point been touched by crossing paths with Mike. I have loved reading them. One of Mike’s old co-workers sent a long, beautiful message in which she described mike as: “an amazing guy. Always calm, cool, and collected. Clever, sarcastic, optimistic. A big heart and smart mind.” Someone else said: “You’d be hard-pressed to find one single person that had one single bad thing to say about Mike DiTore”. Both, so spot on. Mike went through a really tough journey these last 17 months and I think there are few people who could go through what he did with such grace and even humor. Some of you may have followed Mike’s daily “vlog” of his days where he often referred to his parents and I as his Uber drivers when he wasn’t able to drive any longer himself. He would tell me he’s an “aspiring influencer” and I’d often be surprised with a camera in my face when I least expected it. He’d also playfully walk around the house singing “Hurt” by Johnny Cash “what have I become, my sweetest friend….”, in reference to his ailments.

He always tried to keep things light and make us laugh in the toughest of times. And he did struggle, too – but he never complained.

In fact, we consulted with a doctor in Michigan and there were times when Mike had to travel to Mott Children’s Hospital there for visits. In the waiting room, he saw so many young children battling cancer. He came home from his first visit telling me how eye opening it was and how grateful it made him feel for getting to where he did in life before he got sick. Mike was kind and gentle but also stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. He didn’t hold grudges and I have truly never heard him yell in my 16 years of knowing him. He was patient and sweet. Thoughtful and always well-intentioned. He took care of himself in a way that impressed and motivated others. He loved hard and worked hard. He would compliment me and share his love or show concern for others even in his lowest, darkest of moments.

He was such a wonderful partner. In fact, one of my very best friends who has known Mike as long as I have told me that Mike literally set the standards for what she wanted in a husband and the father of her children. She wouldn’t settle because she knew how she wanted to be treated. She knew what was possible because she saw how Mike treated me throughout our entire relationship. She’d tell her now husband to look at how “hands on” Mike is as a dad because that’s what she wants for her children. Mike was a role model for so many. He was caring and compassionate. Determined and dedicated to his family.

His dedication to our relationship was obvious early on, but further proven when he’d spend hours traveling on four different trains to get from Seton Hall to Saint Joe's to visit me for one night. We didn’t have our cars on campus yet and he did this long trip often. I, on the other hand, had my dad pick me up in Philly and drive me an hour and 45 minutes to Mike and then back home. So thank you for that, dad. :) Mike never ceased to prove his commitment to me or our family.

Mike had wit. He was smart. He had so much common sense but also had the ability to be a little spontaneous. We’d be sitting on the couch and he’d ask what I’m doing. I’d say “I’m going to book us a trip to Italy" and he’d just respond “ Oh ok cool, for when?” Always right on board with my crazy ideas. We actually traveled often whether it be making our way around the parks on a bi-annual Michetti Disney trip, watching a spring training game in Clearwater, hiking the mountains of Sedona, relaxing on an island or eating our way through Italy. We did see and accomplish a lot together but our favorite spot was and always will be Ocean City, New Jersey where we spent so much of our summers together and where we decided to marry.

Mike loved music. He knew the lyrics to every good rap song but also thrived at a concert where he could scream and head bang. Mike also loved fitness. Around 2012, he found a second home in the gym. He met his best friend in his time at Seton Hall and together they developed a passion for health and fitness that Mike never let go of – even when life knocked him down. He completely transformed his body as well as his entire way of life. He lost weight and gained significant muscle. He knew so much of what there is to know about lifting weights. We also had fun doing races together. We completed Tough Mudders, a few Spartan races up black diamonds covered in mud and we ran 10 miles down Broadstreet.

After our first son Dante was born, Mike started going to the gym at 4am instead of after work. This drove me crazy - partially because I was incredibly jealous of his commitment but also because when he tried his very hardest to be quiet, it somehow made him louder and I’d always wake up. I had a newborn, so sleep was seldom. You see, Mike didn’t want to miss even a moment with our boys after work so despite losing some sleep, he got up every single morning when that alarm went off at 4am.

I always envied Mike for having so many interests. He had so much knowledge. He read. He cooked. He listened to podcasts. He understood nutrition. He followed sports.

He could catch a Seinfeld quote from a mile away and had the ability to hold a meaningful conversation.

He was incredibly interesting. Mike also loved to hunt but more than hunting itself, he loved sleeping on a bunk bed with 20 other guys snoring around him in a smelly trailer in the mountains. I think this was the essence of his annual hunting trip to Potter County. He left every year right after Thanksgiving. I wasn’t thrilled about it as it forced me to get my Christmas tree a week late. Or a week early. Everyone sort of knows you are supposed to get it the day after Thanksgiving...... but I digress. All jokes aside, I thought this was a really unique and meaningful tradition for his family. Mike did love to hunt, but what he really loved about this was the quality time with his dad, uncle, cousins and the other guys that were there.

Last year we were unsure if he should go because of his health but we knew it could possibly be his last trip there so we ultimately decided he should. Despite the fact that he brought COVID home to us all (thanks again babe), I am so so glad that he went. This trip meant the world to him and I know he will be smiling ear to ear one day watching from above when our boys get in on a game of poker and fall asleep on one of those cozy, smelly bunk beds. Fatherhood looked good on Mike. Navigating those first few weeks of new parenthood together made me fall in love with him all over again. He was so patient. So eager and fulfilled in his new role as a dad and he could make me laugh in the moments when I was a hair away from a melt down. Mike worked hard to find his place in our new dynamic once the kids were born. With a baby that was physically attached to mommy 95% of the day, it would have been so easy for him to take the backseat, but he never did. He’d set me up with the boppy pillow and feed me while I fed the babies or when they were simply not having any parts of me putting them down. He helped me sit up at night for every single feeding when I was in too much pain to move myself. He was so proud to be a dad of two boys and it didn’t take much to see that in his face everyday.

I will spend every single day telling our boys about the wonderful man their father was and I know while he’s not physically here, he will absolutely play a role in every aspect of their lives. I am eternally grateful for having the opportunity to experience the kind of love that I did with Mike – since the age of 15. I want to go on and on. I want every single person to know every single detail about Mike and all that he was and did for his family but we’d be here for days.

I think we can learn a lot from Mike and how he lived his life. He lived and loved harder in 30 years than some people do in 60. So I’ll leave you with this advice….

I saw a note on Mike's phone recently. It was titled “things to never take for granted” and it listed the following:

-walking unassisted -taking a bite of food and swallowing -walking into the bathroom and walking out -hearing out of both ears -walking up stairs -picking up my boys -getting in and out of the car Most, if not all of us, probably do these things without thinking twice. So do me a favor - next time you get in the car with your loved one, head out to a restaurant, drink a beer or glass of wine and order your favorite meal, remember this.

To Mike, in the last several months, walking to the bathroom felt like mile 10 on Broadstreet and getting upstairs was harder than climbing a muddy black diamond.

Take his advice. Slow down and find gratitude for the ability to do these every day, mundane activities. To Michael Michael Motorcycle: I don’t think I could go on with life without believing that we will be reunited one day. Until it’s my time, I’ll be here trying to make you proud, raising our boys to be good men, and honoring you every step of the way. I will miss every single thing about you and the life we had. I am so lucky and grateful to have been loved by you in this lifetime. In the words of our man Aaron Lewis: “Thank god my someones you.”