Michele M. Martucci, a lifelong resident of the Bronx, died on April 18, 2022. She was 67.
Ms. Martucci was born on October 29, 1954 in the Bronx to the late Elio and Mary (Scaglione) Martucci. She worked with a great crew at Dayton Industries in the Bronx for nearly 2 decades. She was an avid reader, and especially loved Stephen King. She loved her family from Plattsburgh, New York to Connecticut, but she was a Bronx girl through and through. She loved her bread and treats from our family bakery on Morris Park Avenue. She loved getting lunch on the water on City Island. She loved watching her grandkids play and grow up. She’d often send little gifts in the mail ‘just because’. She was a child of the 60’s and truly wanted peace for herself and everyone she knew. She was artistic, a great dancer, and a fan of classic rock and classic movies. She was interested in history, science, current affairs, and politics – and could talk about any subject. She loved Greenwich Village and thought it would be great to have a place there. She was adventurous in her younger years, even took up skydiving and swore she would do it again if she had the chance. She was always so much more than meets the eye. She will be loved and missed by all!
She is survived by her sister Elizabeth (Terri); her brother Joseph and sister-in-law Sharon; her only son Michael (Mazzariello); her daughter-in-law Angelina; and her two grandchildren, Ryan and Dominic.
Memorial Service will be Friday from 5-8pm at John Dormi & Sons Funeral Home, 1121 Morris Park Avenue, Bronx. Interment will be private.
You were a great mom and you knew how much I loved you, but I still feel guilty like I could’ve been better. I am paying it forward mom, the love you made me feel, I give that to the people in my life all the time, especially my kids. I want them to feel love the way I felt it from you, unconditionally. You propped me up, you’re the person I could complain about a bad day to, a bad week, a bad year even. When the person that knows you like no other poofs out of your existence you feel it. But somehow you are with me and seeing my kids through my eyes, you’ll always be with me. Wish I could tell you about this week from hell I’m having. I hear you in my head. Thanks for everything. I love you. ✌
Michele is my sister, and we were close growing up in the Bronx together, we shared great times going out with our friends in the Village. In the early sixties, our family moved to Culver City, and we were determined to learn how to swim, Michele and I took lessons together, we rode on my bike every day, we not only got our swim badge but we also took the lifesaver course, she was a natural. We enjoyed the music of our era, and when I would come home on leave, she would have tickets for me to see the Allman Bros. Grateful Dead in Gailic Park, Sly and the family Stone and of course Mickys favorite band The Rolling Stones. When hard times hit with the passing of our Dad , Michele and our mom moved upstate with my Family and stayed 5 years here. She longed for the big city, and moved back to the Bronx in 1999, and got busy getting her life in order. Michele did visit me twice a few years back, and we stayed in touch, I miss my little sis so much already, I will miss her forever
You never know when the last time that you see or talk to someone that it
will be the last time you see or talk to them. Michele is my sister in law and my friend for 44 years. I will miss sharing our thoughts on books, and movies, music, current events, clothes and make up and our lives in general. We loved to commiserate over everything that seemed to affect the both of us. We’d share stories about our kids and she would tell me how proud she was of her son Mikey and his beautiful family. She loved being a Grandma and we’d laugh at how time (and wrinkles) snuck up on us. It was a terrible shock to lose her and she will live on forever in our hearts. If you look up at the night sky there’s a new star shining bright. It’s Michele, perched on a comfy cloud with her favorite book, a cup of coffee and a piece of Scalione’s pork bread, smiling down on us.
I wish we had told you that you had another grandchild on the way the last time I saw you, we were waiting to tell. New baby boy coming in November that you won’t get to meet, not in person anyway. I don’t think there is a heaven or hell not in the conventional sense, I don’t know if the essence of you exists somewhere else but your essence does exist here, in my home, in my kids,. Dominic keeps asking why your car is in our driveway, how do you explain this to a 3 year old? I can’t. Not right now. Maybe someday I will be able to. I will tell them about you and your love, you were difficult for me to be around you sometimes, really because we were so different in so many ways, but your love for me and my wife and my kids was so genuine, so very genuine, that’s a great thing to be remembered for, fuck what you acquired or didn’t acquire, what does that mean if you can’t look back and feel the real shit. The person I could tell anything to and did, you knew the truth of every story, even the bits I left out when telling others. Damn we don’t value that asset when we have it, only when it’s gone. I should have been easier on you last year but you were infuriating me the way you were handling your health. You could have told me anything and everything, the full story and perspective is all I needed. Anyway, just thinking about you today.