Michael "Mike" MacDonald

Mike MacDonald passed away peacefully on July 9, 2026, with his daughters by his side,

just three months after the passing of Lynne, his wife of over 52 years. In those final

months, he stayed focused on getting her through her own illness, even as his own health

was failing. Once she was gone, he tried to push forward the same way he always had,

but there was only so much even he could carry.

Mike was born on August 22, 1949, in New York City, to the late Katherine Ryan

MacDonald and John Russell MacDonald. His brother John MacDonald passed before

him, and he is survived by his brother Terry MacDonald.

He was a proud Vietnam veteran, serving in the U.S. Army as a photographer on the

front lines, a role that earned him the Bronze Star. It set the tone for how he lived

afterward: steady under pressure, always positive, and never one to make a show of it.

He knew from a young age that he wanted to be a printer, and he built that career from

the ground up, serving over 50 years at Cherry Lane Litho: sweeping floors before

becoming a pressman on Heidelberg presses, and later an early adopter of digital

printing as the industry changed around him. It was a job he truly loved, start to finish.

He left for work with a smile on his face and came home with it too.

Mike’s love story with Lynne defied many odds. It began with her waiting for him while

he served in Vietnam, and over and over they proved to the world they were meant for

each other. Over the years, you saw that he was the “Ying” to her “Yang”. They went on

to marry and build a family of four daughters: Kathy (Nelson Lopez), Chrissy (Anthony

Scionti), Cheryl (Jason (Jay) Giovannettone), and Colleen (John Violette).

Together, Mike and Lynne created many memories for the family, including vacations

upstate affectionately called the “pitts,” Christmas decorating that would take days

(while listening to the Carpenters, of course), and making sure they had the “best sound

system/tech” he could afford for movies. Mike was tech-first, bringing home a 5-disk CD

changer and an early personal computer for the family to learn on. We don’t know how

he did it, but he did.

He was a proud “Poppy” to ten grandchildren: Nicholas (Nick), Emma, Jake, Hannah,

Sarah, Bella, Logan, Charlie, Annaca, and Bria. Most recently, he was a proud part of the

ceremony for the commissioning of his grandson, Jake, into the U.S. Air Force

Mike was an optimist, but in a grounded way. He saw things as they actually were and

stayed hopeful for a good outcome. Whatever came at him, he handled it quietly and

kept moving forward. “It is what it is” was a familiar line when faced with adversity.

With four daughters, you have to ask, did he have a choice? When asked, he’d say, “I’d

do it a million times over if I could.” Mike was proud of the family he built. As he should

be!

A devoted NY Islanders and NY Giants fan, nothing compared to his love of the NY

Yankees. (Aside from being an American, of course!) He rarely missed a game, treasured

any game he got to attend in person, and loved to reminisce at the Old Timers’ Day

games. The only thing close to his love for the NY Yankees was his love of golf. He got

his start as a caddie at Bethpage Black, and the golf course remained one of the places he

felt most at home for the rest of his life. Some of his favorite memories were spending

time with close friends on the course. Some days were better than others, but it didn’t

matter to him at all. He was just happy to be there.

Mike made friends wherever he went, at McCarthy’s Pub, at Farrell’s, and, most

recently, in his new “extended family” at Sunset in Highlands Ranch, Colorado, where

he and Lynne moved six years ago and built a second family of friends who came to love

him as their own. When his daughters went back to Sunset to share the news, story after

another said the same thing in different words: everybody there considered him an

amazing person, and they were so glad to know him.

Losing both parents in just three months has left a hole in everyone’s hearts that words

can’t describe. What gets us through is knowing Mike is at rest, back with Lynne, and

that he stuck around just long enough to catch the Yankees pull off a much-needed win.

We love you, Dad. Clearly, Mom needed you in heaven more than you needed us here.

Go easy on whatever list she’s already started for you. Thank you for everything you gave

us. You did it “your way,” and we are so glad you did!

Rest easy, Poppy. This “Coors Light” is for you.