Michael Unite Guzman

Michael never met a room he could not light up or a stranger he could not turn into a friend within five minutes. The life of the party as a description for him is an understatement. He always had classic R&B or Hip Hop thumping on the speakers. The best and scrumptious barbecue brisket on his grill. He danced around with his oversized Seahawks jersey. He could easily have the room erupting into laughter in his entrance. He had everyone singing Lea Salonga songs in karaoke. You just always knew when Michael had arrived. The volume went up, the smiles got wider, and somehow he made sure everyone belonged.

But the music feels quieter today. Michael, the man who could turn any Tuesday into an uproarious celebration and any stranger into family has taken his final party exit.

In his sudden passing, we look back at the man who lit up every room he was in. If you know Michael Guzman or Manong Mike to his family or Guzi to his close knit friends, you know him as the firecracker. The definition of celebration. It made sense because he was born days before a cold Seattle Christmas.

He immediately got so much attention from his family because he was the golden boy of the clan. He was the only boy in a sea of girl cousins, a role that shaped him into a rare and cherished soul - tough as nails like King Koopa on the outside but tender-hearted within like a soft gummy bear.

Michael carried a fearless and loud, “I do not care what anyone thinks” persona but to those who knew him best saw the quiet care he took in doing things right and honoring the people he loved.

To his family, he was the steadfast protector especially for all the girls. Long before any boy could even think of breaking their hearts, Manong Mike had already sized him up, set him straight, and sent him on his way with a stern look that needed no words. He was the blunt and lovable brother to his Manang Maria and his little sister, Mara. The funny and warm male figure to his cousins.

At a young age, he stood as a second father for his nephews and nieces and was referred to as “Uncle Mickey Mouse” or “Gruncle.” Always there to joke around with them but at the same time taught them integrity and steadfastness. He was also the go-to reliable force to the elders or sick family members, always first to take care of everyone.

Michael took on many roles throughout his life, not only within his family but also in his career, particularly as an Internal Organizer for SEIU. He enjoyed the travel his job required and loved experiencing the popular foods from each place he visited, often sharing his latest finds on social media. He never met a stranger, only friends he hadn’t laughed with yet. That same gregarious, magnetic spirit that made him the heartbeat of every party became the driving force behind his life’s work. Armed with an infectious smile, a quick joke, and a deep belief that every worker deserved dignity, respect, and a fair shot, he turned picket lines into places of solidarity and union halls into second homes.

Yet above every title he ever held, the roles he cherished most and lived most fully were those of a devoted father to his daughter, Mariana Jenae and loving husband to Jennifer, the love of his life.

To Jennifer, he was her forever person. A man that bragged about her accomplishments, how kind hearted she was, and even sent the family videos of her speaking in front of crowds.

To Mariana, he was simply “Papa” - the loudest cheer at every school event, the first to volunteer, and the patient teacher of life’s lessons. He tried his best to be the ultimate girl dad, keeping up with the latest trends and trying to be cool, all while staying firm when she needed guidance. He poured his whole soul into fatherhood. It was the proudest role he ever had, and truly the best party he was ever a part of.

Looking back at his life, Michael never entered a room he could not light up, a worker he would not fight for, or a loved one he would not fiercely protect. And somehow, in a life that seemed too big for one man, he still saved the softest parts of himself for home.

He was preceded in death by his parents Narciso R. Guzman and Maremma "Tessie" U. Guzman. He is survived by his wife, Jennifer Guzman and his daughter, Mariana Jenae. His sisters, Maria Guzman and Mara Guzman.

The world feels a little smaller today but heaven just got a little louder. We love you forever, Mike.