Michael L. Simonich

West Point, 1968

Be Thou At Peace

Posted by Flutura Veipi on July 16, 2023:

I met Mike 20 years ago. Since that first day, we became friends and loved to be in each other's company. Later fell in love and spent more than 16 years together building a family. What I loved the most was the way he loved Albania, his pride in my independence and his daughters, his curious mind, and the passion he developed for electric cars and exploring space. Despite our 30 years difference in age, he was an absolute joy to be with, and that difference was just in papers. I was the mature one, and he was so young at heart. We used to joke that he felt 17, I had the brains of a 65-year-old, and most accurately, that age difference was the other way around. Always passionate about trips, we often took short trips within Albania or the Balkans, Europe, driving and enjoying the scenery and stopping without a plan in a small village restaurant in south Albania or Italy. We would play trivia, with Elira asking the questions, on the road to Vlora, stop at the same village place for rice, yogurt, and tas kebab every time, and listen to a mix of music that varied from Italian songs, ABBA, Taylor Swift, and some Albanians too. He lived his life in many countries and loved the fact that he had had the opportunity to experience different cultures. He loved his time at West Point and his friends, who were all bound for life. In the 50th reunion of the class of 68, we visited the grounds of West Point, and Mike would look for the places he remembered and keep telling Elira that she should consider joining West Point when the time comes. Always so approachable and optimistic; everyone to him was a "good guy." Even when I questioned his fast judgment, I still admired how he did not care for details but enjoyed the company and allowed only that positivity to touch him. It was a lesson to learn from, a trait to admire that defined him. Everyone that met him loved him. People in the city and neighborhood asked me first about him; "How is Mike?", "Where is Mike?" and "Say Hello to Mike." I did not mind; I was happy people loved him. Why shouldn't they? I loved him. We all loved him! He was always a "daughter's dad" (he said he was not stupid and loved having only daughters). He was 60 years old when he became a father again for the third time. I had to travel for work during the first year of Elira's life, from six months to 1 year old, staying two weeks at a time several times. He did not complain, encouraged me, and alone and sometimes, with friends' help, took amazing care of her. He was a father to 3 daughters he loved and adored: Steph, Mel, and Elira, who had to laugh at his mixing names. Whenever he closed a call with Steph or Mel, he would call Elira either Steph or Mel. He missed Steph and Mel, and that lingering of names for some time was a sign of him wanting more time with them. He was an excellent supportive partner. We chose that the place to live would be the one that would allow me to have a career until it was about his health, but we never dwelled too long on such decisions. Our family was the priority. To be together longer, we would do anything needed. His support for my frequent travels and long working hours while he patiently waited at my office, doing his sudoku, or reading a book, was a beautiful picture. That's why everyone I worked with knew him and Elira. They would wait while everyone else left work, and everyone will greet him. I was careless about planning work meetings and forgetting to tell him. He would message or call, always with the nicest of questions: " Zemer, what is the plan for tonight?". I'm not sure the saying makes sense, but I always said he was "home" to me. I did not need a building or an address. Wherever he was, that was the home. When I count, I come up with eight houses we lived in during our marriage, eight houses, but one home. There was no need to have an exciting life. Our driving trips or watching a TV show sitting on the couch, and having a beer were happy days the same. We did that so often when he was sick, especially since the disease came back last September, planning the future and loving life. He loved life so much but wanted to live it on his terms. He will always be with me, loving him forever, the love of my life! .......... " When death takes my hand I will hold you with the other and promise to find you in every lifetime" (by Rupi Kaur, "The Sun and her flowers")

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