Memories of Michael Andrew Ross

In memory of

Michael Andrew Ross

Jamul

November 27, 2002 - April 24, 2025

Nov 27, 2002 - Apr 24, 2025

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Brianna Schultz

2023, Clairemont, San Diego, CA, USA

Michael seeing how his shoes looked with his clothes but without actually putting them on.

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Kimberly Keane

Emma Reasoner

Robbi Palstring

Abbie Medina

Brianna Schultz

2023, Clairemont, San Diego, CA, USA

One of many ground turkey meals.

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Kimberly Keane

Emma Reasoner

Robbi Palstring

Abbie Medina

George Taylor

Brianna Schultz

2023, Clairemont Town Square, Clairemont Drive, San Diego, CA, USA

Michael trying on his panda sleeping mask, we had matching ones.

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Kimberly Keane

Abbie Medina

Please consider a donation to Michael's Resting Place.

$15,000

goal

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Brianna Schultz

2023, Clairemont, San Diego, CA, USA

Kimberly Keane

Emma Reasoner

Kimberly Keane

Mother’s Day 2024

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Cheryl Mendoza

Emma Reasoner

Abbie Medina

Comments:

Kimberly Keane

As a mother, my entire identity was wrapped around my boys. They were my heart’s greatest joy, the source of laughter in my soul, and the love that filled every corner of my being.

From the time they were little, I found pure happiness in the everyday moments—snuggling under a blanket, teaching them to sing, dance, and ride a bike. I kissed every scraped knee and whispered reassurances that everything would be okay, back then they believed me.  I was their hero once, and in their beautiful innocence and love, they became mine.

As they grew, each with his own vibrant and unique personality, I often stood in awe of their wisdom, their insight, and the way they approached life’s challenges—individually and together. Watching them navigate the world, side by side, brought me a kind of love so deep, so overwhelming, that words never felt big enough to contain it. I wasn’t just proud of them as individuals—I was profoundly moved by the bond they shared as brothers and best friends.

What brought me the greatest joy in life was their closeness. They chose each other—not just by blood, but as friends, roommates, confidants. I treasured every visit, every memory we created. Whether we were deep in conversation, playing our own hilarious version of Scattergories, or just laughing and debating for hours over the smallest things, we were connected by something rare and beautiful. Our honesty, our openness—it was sacred to me.

Now, with Mother's Day here, I feel hollow. It’s horrifically clear that half of my soul died with Michael, and the part that remains is shattered, watching Matt endure the this unbearable loss. Matt, Brianna, Abbie, and I are carrying a grief so heavy it feels impossible to move beneath it.

Yesterday, I ran out of the grocery store in tears—without what I went for. I needed to run as fast as I could from the flowers, the cards, the candies that screamed Mother’s Day—each one an agonizing reminder of what I’ve lost. Of the shattered dreams. Of the life that should be, but never will be again.

The world keeps spinning—it’s unfathomable to me. All I want is to stop time, to go back, to wrap my arms around my beautiful boy, and somehow convince Michael that things were going to be okay. I needed him to believe me that things were going to be okay.

But now, all I’m convinced of is that our world will never be okay again…

Please share, repost Michael’s story in the hopes that it opens conversations between people who are struggling with depression and those who love them. In some small way it will also help keep his memory alive.

As a mother, my entire identity was wrapped around my boys. They were my heart’s greatest joy, the source... Read more of laughter in my soul, and the love that filled every corner of my being.

From the time they were little, I found pure happiness in the everyday moments—snuggling under a blanket, teaching them to sing, dance, and ride a bike. I kissed every scraped knee and whispered reassurances that everything would be okay, back then they believed me. I was their hero once, and in their beautiful innocence and love, they became mine.

As they grew, each with his own vibrant and unique personality, I often stood in awe of their wisdom, their insight, and the way they approached life’s challenges—individually and together. Watching them navigate the world, side by side, brought me a kind of love so deep, so overwhelming, that words never felt big enough to contain it. I wasn’t just proud of them as individuals—I was profoundly moved by the bond they shared as brothers and best friends.

What brought me the greatest joy in life was their closeness. They chose each other—not just by blood, but as friends, roommates, confidants. I treasured every visit, every memory we created. Whether we were deep in conversation, playing our own hilarious version of Scattergories, or just laughing and debating for hours over the smallest things, we were connected by something rare and beautiful. Our honesty, our openness—it was sacred to me.

Now, with Mother's Day here, I feel hollow. It’s horrifically clear that half of my soul died with Michael, and the part that remains is shattered, watching Matt endure the this unbearable loss. Matt, Brianna, Abbie, and I are carrying a grief so heavy it feels impossible to move beneath it.

Yesterday, I ran out of the grocery store in tears—without what I went for. I needed to run as fast as I could from the flowers, the cards, the candies that screamed Mother’s Day—each one an agonizing reminder of what I’ve lost. Of the shattered dreams. Of the life that should be, but never will be again.

The world keeps spinning—it’s unfathomable to me. All I want is to stop time, to go back, to wrap my arms around my beautiful boy, and somehow convince Michael that things were going to be okay. I needed him to believe me that things were going to be okay.

But now, all I’m convinced of is that our world will never be okay again…

Please share, repost Michael’s story in the hopes that it opens conversations between people who are struggling with depression and those who love them. In some small way it will also help keep his memory alive. Read less As a mother, my entire identity was wrapped around my boys. They were my heart’s greatest joy, the source of laughter in my soul,... Read more and the love that filled every corner of my being.

From the time they were little, I found pure happiness in the everyday moments—snuggling under a blanket, teaching them to sing, dance, and ride a bike. I kissed every scraped knee and whispered reassurances that everything would be okay, back then they believed me. I was their hero once, and in their beautiful innocence and love, they became mine.

As they grew, each with his own vibrant and unique personality, I often stood in awe of their wisdom, their insight, and the way they approached life’s challenges—individually and together. Watching them navigate the world, side by side, brought me a kind of love so deep, so overwhelming, that words never felt big enough to contain it. I wasn’t just proud of them as individuals—I was profoundly moved by the bond they shared as brothers and best friends.

What brought me the greatest joy in life was their closeness. They chose each other—not just by blood, but as friends, roommates, confidants. I treasured every visit, every memory we created. Whether we were deep in conversation, playing our own hilarious version of Scattergories, or just laughing and debating for hours over the smallest things, we were connected by something rare and beautiful. Our honesty, our openness—it was sacred to me.

Now, with Mother's Day here, I feel hollow. It’s horrifically clear that half of my soul died with Michael, and the part that remains is shattered, watching Matt endure the this unbearable loss. Matt, Brianna, Abbie, and I are carrying a grief so heavy it feels impossible to move beneath it.

Yesterday, I ran out of the grocery store in tears—without what I went for. I needed to run as fast as I could from the flowers, the cards, the candies that screamed Mother’s Day—each one an agonizing reminder of what I’ve lost. Of the shattered dreams. Of the life that should be, but never will be again.

The world keeps spinning—it’s unfathomable to me. All I want is to stop time, to go back, to wrap my arms around my beautiful boy, and somehow convince Michael that things were going to be okay. I needed him to believe me that things were going to be okay.

But now, all I’m convinced of is that our world will never be okay again…

Please share, repost Michael’s story in the hopes that it opens conversations between people who are struggling with depression and those who love them. In some small way it will also help keep his memory alive. Read less As a mother, my entire identity was wrapped around ... Read moremy boys. They were my heart’s greatest joy, the source of laughter in my soul, and the love that filled every corner of my being.

From the time they were little, I found pure happiness in the everyday moments—snuggling under a blanket, teaching them to sing, dance, and ride a bike. I kissed every scraped knee and whispered reassurances that everything would be okay, back then they believed me. I was their hero once, and in their beautiful innocence and love, they became mine.

As they grew, each with his own vibrant and unique personality, I often stood in awe of their wisdom, their insight, and the way they approached life’s challenges—individually and together. Watching them navigate the world, side by side, brought me a kind of love so deep, so overwhelming, that words never felt big enough to contain it. I wasn’t just proud of them as individuals—I was profoundly moved by the bond they shared as brothers and best friends.

What brought me the greatest joy in life was their closeness. They chose each other—not just by blood, but as friends, roommates, confidants. I treasured every visit, every memory we created. Whether we were deep in conversation, playing our own hilarious version of Scattergories, or just laughing and debating for hours over the smallest things, we were connected by something rare and beautiful. Our honesty, our openness—it was sacred to me.

Now, with Mother's Day here, I feel hollow. It’s horrifically clear that half of my soul died with Michael, and the part that remains is shattered, watching Matt endure the this unbearable loss. Matt, Brianna, Abbie, and I are carrying a grief so heavy it feels impossible to move beneath it.

Yesterday, I ran out of the grocery store in tears—without what I went for. I needed to run as fast as I could from the flowers, the cards, the candies that screamed Mother’s Day—each one an agonizing reminder of what I’ve lost. Of the shattered dreams. Of the life that should be, but never will be again.

The world keeps spinning—it’s unfathomable to me. All I want is to stop time, to go back, to wrap my arms around my beautiful boy, and somehow convince Michael that things were going to be okay. I needed him to believe me that things were going to be okay.

But now, all I’m convinced of is that our world will never be okay again…

Please share, repost Michael’s story in the hopes that it opens conversations between people who are struggling with depression and those who love them. In some small way it will also help keep his memory alive. Read less

Jennifer Pippard

Kim, heartbroken to hear your news. If I can be sure of anything it is that you embrace motherhood with all... Read more Kim, heartbroken to hear your news. If I can be sure of anything it is that you embrace motherhood with all the enthusiasm possible.... Read more Kim, heartbroken to hear your news. If I can be sure... Read more

Kimberly Keane

Abbie Medina

Kimberly Keane

Abbie Medina

Kimberly Keane

Abbie Medina

Kimberly Keane

Abbie Medina

Hazel Mae Tapit

Shared a heart

George Taylor

2024, General Store Co-op, Gilman Drive, La Jolla, CA, USA

Michael brought a camera to the tournament to get pictures with me and Aljon

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Kimberly Keane

Abbie Medina

Comments:

Kimberly Keane

Thank you so much for sharing. He really loved the game and the friends he made in the Melee community 💕... Read more Thank you so much for sharing. He really loved the game and the friends he made in the Melee community 💕 Thank you so much for sharing. He really loved the... Read more

Phillip Cansicio and Family

Shared a heart

Kimberly Keane

Clay and Deb Setzer

We are praying for peace and strength for you all. So very sorry for your loss but grateful that you have each other for love and support during this heartbreaking time.

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Kimberly Keane

Don & Leslie Crawford

Our deepest condolences to you all. You are in our prayers.

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Kimberly Keane

Brianna Schultz

2022

Michael being an excellent stacker again.

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Kimberly Keane

Robbi Palstring

Emma Reasoner

Comments:

Kimberly Keane

I also loved his bottle flipping trick! I also loved his bottle flipping trick! I also loved his bottle flipping trick!

Brianna Schultz

2023

Michael being an excellent stacker.

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Kimberly Keane

Robbi Palstring

Emma Reasoner

Brianna Schultz

2024

Us with our mocktails.

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Kimberly Keane

Robbi Palstring

Emma Reasoner

Brianna Schultz

2024

One of a few faces we drew on bananas.

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Kimberly Keane

Robbi Palstring

Emma Reasoner

Brianna Schultz

2024

Us with flowers Michael picked for me while on a walk

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Robbi Palstring

Emma Reasoner

Brianna Schultz

2024

Our first trip to our new Ralphs after moving. We bought a ton of reduced items because Michael loved deals and didn't mind stale food. This picture also features his gym water bottle which he called his baby and carried with him every time we went to the gym.

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Robbi Palstring

Brianna Schultz

2024

One of the many times Michael made us dinner, he was excited to do the grilled zucchini because he hadn't had it in so long.

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Robbi Palstring

Emma Reasoner

Colin Hoggatt

Sandra Rocco Melville

Shared a heart

Kimberly Keane

Shared a heart

Perla Merida

Dear Kim,

I am so sorry for your tremendous loss. As a parent, I can't imagine what you are going through. As a believer, I keep praying for you and your family. May the God who created all things surround you and your loved ones with strength and calm, knowing that in faith, we will see our loved ones who have gone before us again. This world may come to pass, and our flesh with it, but the spirit will remain forever.

May your beautiful boy be surrounded by His love and light, complete and full of the perfect love only Jesus can give.

I send you a big hug🤍

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Kimberly Keane

Tina Moore

We are so saddened by the loss of your beautiful son!! Sending strength, prayers, peace and hugs! ❤️

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Kimberly Keane

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Created with love by Kimberly Keane (Michael's mother), Brianna Schultz (Michael's girlfriend), Matthew Ross (Michael's brother) and Abbie Medina (Michael's sister-in-law).

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Michael Andrew Ross

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Michael Andrew Ross

In lieu of flowers

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