In Memory of Michael: "A Tribute to Michael Ocone"

by Jill Ocone, Michael’s Sister in Law
Read at Michael’s Funeral on June 19, 2007

Well, Buddy…what a long, strange trip it’s been, eh?

Michael Ocone is a father, a husband, a son, a brother, a godfather, a
nephew, a cousin, an accountant, a fisherman, a manager, a family member,
and a friend. No matter what he is to you, he always had a huge passion
and love for life, his family, and his friends. When I think of words to
describe Michael, I think of dedicated, determined, amazing, kind, caring,
enthusiastic, fun-loving, dignified, and responsible. He was a great and
devoted husband to Nicole, who has been with Michael since she was 17
years old and who will miss him greatly. Michael was a magnificent provider
for his children, Emily Rose and Nicholas Michael, putting them before
everything else all the time. Michael always worked hard and played hard. He
touched so many lives and always cared for others more than himself, which
is reflected in the fact that so many people are here today to celebrate his life
with us. To Michael, it was family first at all times. He was a respectful son
to Lou and MaryLou, someone who made them proud. Michael was there, no
matter what, for his sister, Maria, and brother, Anthony. He was
continuously there for all of his family and friends, whether it was riding
motorcycles, casting a line, lending an ear, giving financial advice, helping with
home improvements, sharing a glass of wine or a Grey Goose martini,
cooking a meal, or simply laughing while making memories. His recent
struggle did not define him. Rather, he handled it with dignity and courage.

Perhaps what we will all remember most about Michael is his “just do it”
attitude. You know that attitude? I have known some people here today
since I was 5, and I met some just 5 minutes ago, but I think we can all
agree that Michael was someone who just did it, just loved life and did the
best he could to “get it done.” I remember one day I came home from work,
before I was a teacher, and I was all frustrated. It was Michael who said, “Jill,
just go back to school and get it done…be a teacher already.” I had so many
“what if’s” and worries, but Michael said to just do it, and not to worry. If
we did not have that conversation, I don’t think I would have pursed my
dream of being a teacher. And that is how Michael approached things in
life…just do it, keep calm, and don’t worry. We are all better people today
because Michael brought his passion for life and his “just do it” attitude into
our lives…imagine how different our lives would be right now if it weren’t for
Michael?

Michael was the rock to lean on…the one who kept as calm as a cucumber in
any circumstance…the one who kept our heads straight…the one with the
answers. And you know what? Michael is the big brother who can still make
a bad situation better, simply by hearing his laugh and voice in our
thoughts.

Now we all know what Michael loved to do more than anything, and that was
to fish. There was no better day for Michael than to spend the day on the
water with Nicole, Emily, Nicholas, his father, his mother, his brother, his
sister, or his friends, and just cast the line, hoping to land the big one.
Maybe sometimes he’d reel in a huge and incredible fish, and maybe
sometimes he didn’t reel in anything at all. The catch didn’t matter. It was
fishing, just spending time on the water that mattered… that was his
passion, his release, and his greatest hobby. There’s a short narrative called
“The Horizon,” which ironically enough recently made the email rounds, and is
very appropriate for Michael today…

I am standing upon the seashore.

A ship at my side spreads his white sails to the morning breeze and starts
for the blue ocean.

He is an object of magnificence and strength.

I stand and watch him until at length he hangs like a speck of white cloud on
the horizon, just where the sea and the sky come to mingle with one
another.

Then someone at my side says, “There, he is gone.”

Gone where?

Gone from my sight, that is all.

He is just as large in mast, and hull, and spar as he was when he left my
side, and he is just as able to bear his load of living freight to his destined
port.

His diminished size is in me, not in him.

And just and the moment when someone at my side says, “There, he is
gone,” there are other eyes watching him coming, and other voices ready to
take up the glad shout: “Here he comes!”

Keep on trucking, Michael. Reel in the big one up there while you’re
schmoozing with God, and we’ll all see you soon, so you can show us your
extraordinary catch.