Anthony Ray Souza

Today, we come together to remember and honor Tony—a man who showed us what love, strength, and family values truly mean. While there’s an emptiness in our hearts that no words can fill, we find comfort in the countless memories he gave us and the lessons he taught. Tony’s legacy will live on in the way we care for one another, just as he always did for each of us, and his love will continue to guide us.

Tony wasn’t just my cousin; he was the older brother I never had. He was always there for the people he loved, ready to offer a joke that would have you laughing in no time. His laugh was contagious—deep, genuine, and full of warmth. It made everyone around him smile without even realizing it. His laughter had a way of putting you at ease, making you feel like everything was going to be okay, no matter what. When Tony laughed, you couldn’t help but laugh along because it was real and full of joy. It’s a sound I will forever miss.

Tony loved his brothers—Andrew, Alex, Arturo, and Auggie—so deeply. When their mom, my aunt Pokey, passed, Tony stepped up in a big way, becoming a father figure to them and his 4 sisters. He was there not just as a sibling, but as a protector and guide. Arturo shared with me that he would continue to make Tony proud, a promise that reflects the deep impact Tony had on his life. Tony taught them all what it meant to love unconditionally, to protect, and to care for one another, no matter the circumstances.

Our lives weren’t always easy. We grew up knowing the struggle, and there were moments when it felt like life was pushing us in the wrong direction. But Tony never gave up. He didn’t let the hardships define him. He worked tirelessly to build the life he dreamed of, and through his determination and hard work, he showed us all that no matter where you come from, with dedication, faith, and persistence, you can achieve greatness. We were all so incredibly proud of him.

I’ll never forget the little things Tony did to show he cared. His sister Ray remembers how Tony always made sure she had a ride to school during the hot summers when she attended college in the valley, even when it was just down the street. It wasn’t about the distance; it was about the love he showed, the way he made sure she knew he always had her back. His thoughtfulness was something we all cherished and will always remember.

Tony’s impact on his siblings is immeasurable. Alex remembers how Tony always pushed him to be better, even when he didn’t want to hear it. Tony believed in him, even when Alex didn’t believe in himself. I remember posting a picture of Alex with his hands held high, worshipping in church, and Tony replied to my post and told me how that picture made him cry every time he saw it. It was a reminder of how deeply Tony cared for his family, always moved by our growth, our victories, and our struggles.

For Tabatha, Tony was her protector. He made her feel invincible, always by her side, no matter what. Their bond was so strong that some of Tony’s friends even affectionately called her “Tabatha Ray,” as Tony’s middle name was Ray. His love for her was unbreakable. He was always there to lift her up, even when she was down (or wrong, lol), and that’s the kind of love we all hope to have in our lives—constant, unconditional, and strong.

To his sister Serena, Tony was the rock of their family. He was their leader, their voice of reason, their protector. Whether it was a moment of joy or hardship, Tony was always the one holding them together. At family gatherings, you could always find him by the grill, cooking and making sure everyone was fed, happy, and taken care of. Tony loved to cook—he especially loved to barbecue—and his food was more than just a meal. It was a reason for everyone to come together, to laugh, to share stories, and to create memories. His cooking brought everyone closer, no matter the occasion, whether it was a holiday, a birthday, or just a simple gathering. Every meal was an act of love.

His sister Sammy also shared the deep void left by Tony. To her, he was more than a brother—he was a father figure, a mentor, and a friend. She remembers the big moments, like when Tony walked her down the aisle and all the unforgettable concerts they attended together, but she also remembers the small moments—the everyday gestures that showed just how much he cared. Every family gathering, every milestone, Tony made her feel seen, loved, and special. Sammy’s words echo the pain we all feel: “How are you gone?” But even in the midst of her grief, she’s forever grateful for the love and guidance Tony gave her.

Tony didn’t have children of his own, but he loved his godchildren, nieces, and nephews as if they were his own. They all adored their uncle, “Nono,” and they knew how much they meant to him. Tony’s love for them was as strong as any bond could be, and he was always there, guiding and supporting them. The affection and love they shared with him will live on in their hearts forever.

Tony wasn’t just the heart of our family; he was its soul. He didn’t just give advice—he led by example. In everything he did, he poured his heart and soul into it. His ability to guide and uplift those around him was remarkable. He was always there with a hand to help when you needed it. Tony wasn’t just the kind of person who made you feel safe, important, and loved—he also made sure you heard what you needed to hear, even if it wasn’t always what you wanted to hear. He had a way of being honest, sometimes stern, and always real. Whether in his work or family life, Tony could be direct, make a smart remark, or tell a joke, but it was always from a place of love and a desire to see us grow and do better. He pushed us to be our best, and we knew it was because he cared deeply for each of us. We were all so blessed to have him in our lives.

At work, Tony was a respected leader, someone who not only excelled in his field but who also took great pride in his job and enjoyed cooking for his team. I remember when Tony was applying for his supervisor position. He would always joke, “Jack, you’re my lawyer, consultant, and accountant,” so he had me help him with his resume. I was so proud of him, and I told him, “I love you, and I just said a prayer for God to grant you favor, to give you the right words to say, and to put you in the position He wants you in because He knows best.” Tony replied and told me he felt his confidence go way up after that. Needless to say, he got the job, and I couldn’t have been prouder. He worked so hard to get there, and seeing him achieve that was truly a moment of joy. He proved that with enough drive and determination, nothing is impossible.

Tony shared a special bond with his dad, Mil, with whom he lived. They found comfort in the simple things—eating cereal together, watching *Family Guy*, and just being in each other's company. They didn’t need anything extravagant to feel connected. Tony’s dad loved him deeply, and he will miss Tony more than words can express.

Today, we also honor Irene. Irene loved Tony with all of her heart, and Tony loved her in return, deeply and truly. She was his best friend and his partner. Together, they dreamed of a future filled with love and laughter, and though that future was cut short, the love they shared will live on in her heart forever. Irene, we share in your grief, but we also share in the beautiful memories you and Tony created together. The bond you shared was something precious, and we’ll carry that with us always.

Just a week before Tony passed, he went to church with his girlfriend, Irene. None of us will ever truly know the conversation he had with God, but I don’t believe it was a coincidence. I believe, with all my heart, that Tony’s faith was strong, and that in those final moments, God had a plan for him. That thought brings me so much comfort—knowing that Tony, in his last days, turned to God and found peace in His presence before being called home. It’s a reminder that God’s love and grace were with him, right up until the very end. And that brings me a deep sense of peace in my heart.

I want to share something personal. I’ve always considered myself a strong woman of God, but when Tony died, I have to admit, my faith felt like it was crumbling. The weight of losing him—my brother, my friend—was too much to bear. The pain was so deep, I couldn’t understand why God would take him from us. I questioned everything, and for the first time, my heart was filled with doubt. But I know better than to question God’s will. So, in my darkest moment, I called out to Jesus for help. Through the tears, I remember pleading, “But God, I loved him so much.” And then, in a way I can only describe as divine, I heard God’s voice in my spirit, so clearly and tenderly, say, “But I love him more.” In that moment, a peace that could only come from God flooded my heart. It didn’t erase the pain, but it calmed the storm. And I know, deep in my soul, that God has welcomed Tony into His arms. He’s safe, he’s at peace, and he is with the Lord.

I also found comfort in the words from John 14:2, where Jesus says, "In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?" I find so much peace in knowing that God has prepared a place for Tony—just as He has prepared a place for all of us who trust in Him. Tony is not lost; he is home with God.

Not long after that moment of prayer, I stumbled upon a voicemail from Tony that I had forgotten about. It was from almost 4 years ago when I was dealing with the grief of losing my little brother. I had shared with him how the pain felt so overwhelming, like it would never end. And Tony, in his reassuring way, told me he understood. He said it would hurt the most when certain songs played or memories triggered the tears, but he also promised me that if I kept my faith in God, I would be okay. And in that moment, I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that God had allowed me to hear those very words from Tony—words meant to comfort my heart and remind me that faith in God is the key to healing. It was as though Tony was sending me one last message of love, hope, and encouragement. His words brought me peace, and I pray they will bring peace to each of you as well.

So, I leave you with Tony’s words: The pain may feel like it will never go away, but he hoped it would. And if we just keep our faith in God, we’ll be alright.

Tony’s absence is felt deeply today, but we hold onto the love he gave us. His legacy lives on in every act of kindness, in every family gathering, and in every way we make one another feel important. Tony taught us to keep going, no matter what life throws our way. He taught us to rise above it, to be better, to love harder.

Tony, you were much more than just a cousin, a brother, or a mentor—you were the heart and soul of this family. We love you, we miss you, and we will carry your memory in our hearts forever. Though we must say goodbye here on Earth, we find comfort knowing you are in heaven, watching over us, and resting in the arms of our Lord Jesus Christ. Rest in peace, big bro. This isn’t goodbye—it’s “see you later.” We will never forget you, and we will always love you.