Michael James LaBarge

My name is Joanna. Michaels my baby cousin.

I spent my adult life with watching Michael with my hands over my eyes:

“Michael... that's probably high enough”
“Michael....maybe you shouldn't jump ... off of that”
“Michael... put your sister down”
“Ummmm.... Michael, put me down!”

I gotta be honest with you. I always felt that I was special, lucky, that we got the best of him when he was with us. The considerate, thoughtful boy who would let the kids tell him bad knock knock jokes and really laugh; that would hang out with me, this old women, and help do my dishes, or whatever I was doing.

But, then after listening to some of the stories of the life's Michael touched I realized that that was his natural gift, his ability to make everyone in that moment feel special. I think it was because he was 100 percent there and genuine in it.

When I was telling my friend about the huge void now in my life she said that she couldn't remember if she had met Michael, I just smiled,
Then you definitely didn't meet him, I told her. You don't forget meeting Michael!

You simply don't forget Michael once he walks into your life...

...let me rephrase that... once he flew into your life you couldn't help but love him. He was also very hard to say no to. He was at his best a honest to goodness charmer! And he worked it.

The boy loved his mom, dad, brother, Nathan and sister, Jenorey. Even as a busy 20 year old, he made time for them: some texts throughout the day to let them know he is thinking of them, playing football in the front yard, making sure they weren't alone on holidays, bringing them a stray animal to love and take care of; taking off work for a spontaneous Easter Dinner.

He also loved his Leo, Thunder and the baby kittens under his bed.

As a young man he loved: to learn yoyo tricks, he was a boyscout, in the science club, played soccer and football. As he grew he loved to wrestle, ride his four wheeler, camp, travel and sell silly putty. As a young man he liked to dress sharp, topped of with his signature belt buckles and his fancy watches. Lets not forget his love of money!


You could always count Michael in. You could probably see from the pictures the wide array of things he has done in his life with his family. Seriously he was our Abbot:

“Who's on first,”
“That's what I am asking you.”

He was Santa, a keystone cop, whatever you needed. He just loved to be part of it. I can't ever recall him saying no or not being fun about whatever we were doing.

And I can see from the pictures and I heard from the stories, that he was the same for his friends.

That's why for me this isn't good bye. And that is not just denial talking. I plan on carrying him with me everywhere I go. Sometimes, when I need an extra push with a risk that needs to be taken or when I go on an adventure, he will be my co-pilot.

I would like to offer up some suggestions of things that you could do when you just need to feel close to Michael. Because when all was said and done, he knew how to do even the little things that could make a person feel special.

This is just a short list of about 1 percent of the things I could think of :

* Go cheer on someone younger that's important to you at their soccer game ( or any game) and even if they lost 20 to 1, tell them your proud of them

* Call up your sister and harass her.... you don't need a reason.

* Wrestle your brother to the ground.

* Take your dad for all his money in poker

* Teach your little cousin something so ornery that their mother has to hide her smile.

* Climb to the highest part of any tree

* Sneak a coat full of candy into the movie theater

* Text, text, text, text..... for no reason and say nothing,

* Play pinochle with your aunt and uncle,

* Stop by your grandparents house and help them with something they can't do themselves

* Give someone who is sad a few minutes of laughter

* Just show up at your moms; your dads to put your arm around there should and say hey.

If you have any regrets concerning Michael and he was truly your friend, you can leave them here. Regrets just weren't his style.

If you are having trouble moving on, choose instead to live big in that moment. Though Michael was planning for his future and figuring things out, his style was to live large and in the “now”.


So in honor of your son, your brother, your grandson, your nephew, our cousin and your friend .... No matter what you called him: Michael James, Michael Renee, Mikey, Mike, “Big Money”... throw your arm around your neighbor. Find strength in the others that you knew loved him because sorrow just wasn't his style.


“There's only us
There's only this
Forget regret
Or life is yours to miss
No other road
No other way
No day but today”