Marius "Guito" Pierre

It is with hearts heavier than words can express that we announce the passing of our beloved father, husband, grandfather, brother, and friend, Marius Pierre, lovingly known as “Guito” since childhood. He departed this life on August 23, 2026, at the age of 79, just a few weeks shy of celebrating his 80th birthday.

Born on October 6, 1946, in Hinche, Haiti, Dad came to the United States in December 1979, carrying with him dreams of building a better life for his family. He worked hard, sacrificed, and gave everything he had to make those dreams a reality.

For 51 beautiful years, he shared his life with his beloved wife, Vierge Pierre. Their journey together began in Haiti, and Dad eventually brought the woman he loved to the United States so they could build their life together. Side by side, they built a family, a home, and a legacy that will continue long after them.

But if you knew Guito, you knew that family was his whole world.

Dad loved his wife deeply. He loved his children beyond measure. He loved his grandchildren. And he loved his children’s spouses as though they were his own. There was never a question about whether Dad would show up for his family he simply did.

His greatest joy wasn’t what he could buy for himself or what he could accomplish. His happiness came from seeing us happy.

Dad was a giver.

If we needed something, he found a way to get it. If something was broken, he fixed it. If someone needed help, he was there. He gave to his children and grandchildren freely, never keeping score and never asking for anything in return.

That was just who he was.

Dad was a retired contractor, but retirement never really meant retirement to him. At almost 80 years old, he was still working, still moving, still finding something to repair, and still believing there was nothing he couldn’t fix.

He could climb onto a roof to repair the house. He could build something from scratch. He could take something apart and somehow make it work again.

Our dad could fix almost anything.

Sometimes we joked that he would break something just so he could fix it.

And somehow, no matter how big the job was, Dad always figured it out.

He worked out. He stayed active. He kept busy. He was always doing something. At an age when many people would have slowed down, Dad was still moving with the same determination that had carried him through life.

But now, there is one thing we wish more than anything that he could fix.

We wish he could fix this. We wish he could walk through the door again. We wish we could hear his voice. We wish we could call him when something breaks. We wish we could her him say, “kite m wè” Let me see.”

Because for so many years, Dad made us feel like there was nothing we had to be afraid of because he would figure it out. And now we have to learn how to live in a world where we can’t call Dad to fix everything.

Dad was also a man of deep faith and a devoted Seventh-day Adventist. His faith was an important part of his life, and we take comfort in the hope that we will see him again.

He leaves behind his beloved wife of 51 years, Vierge Pierre, and his six children: Mario Pierre, Ronald Kerlyne Pierre, Weslaine Pierre, Mackenzie Pierre, Guytho Pierre, Ronald Adolphe and Vickie Pierre; his grandchildren; his children’s spouses; his siblings Marcius Pierre and Denise Thérèse; and countless relatives and friends who were blessed to know him.

He was preceded in death by five of his seven siblings.

A Father’s Greatest Legacy

Dad’s greatest accomplishment wasn’t the houses he built or the things he repaired.

It was us. He built a family. He built a home filled with love. He built memories. He built a legacy. And he spent his entire life making sure the people he loved had what they needed.

He didn’t have to say “I love you” because he showed us. He showed us through every sacrifice. Every repair. Every gift. Every phone call. Every time he showed up. Every time he put his family before himself. That was Dad’s love language taking care of us.

Our hearts are broken because we didn’t just lose our father. We lost the man we could call when we didn’t know what to do. We lost the man who could make a problem disappear. We lost our protector. Our provider. Our handyman. Our biggest giver. Our family’s strong foundation. And for those of us who were lucky enough to call him Dad, we lost a piece of home. Dad, there will always be things around us that remind us of you a repaired door, something you built, a tool sitting where you left it, a project you never got to finish. And every time we see those things, we’ll remember the hands that built them. Your hands worked hard for us. Your heart loved us completely. Your life was a gift to us. You spent your life fixing everything that was broken.

Now we will carry your love and your strength with us and try to take care of each other the way you always took care of us. We promise to keep your memory alive. We promise to tell your grandchildren about the man you were. We promise to continue the family you worked so hard to build. And we promise that the love you gave us will never end. Because even though your hands are no longer here to fix things, the life you built for us will continue to hold us together.

You were our Dad.

You were Guito.

You were our safe place.

You were our provider.

You were our fixer.

You were our example.

You were our home.

And no matter how many years pass, you will always be a part of us.

Rest peacefully, Dad.

We love you.

We miss you.

We thank you.

And we will carry you with us for the rest of our lives.