Steven R. Locaputo's Obituary
Steven R. Locaputo April 28, 2021 Steven R. Locaputo, 56, died in his sleep from cardiac arrest on April 28, 2021. He was born in Syracuse, son of Michael P. and Mary (Froio) Locaputo. Steven graduated from ESM High School, SUNY Canton and RIT. He was employed by Thermopatch Corp. He volunteered as a piano player and singer at nursing homes and at Meals on Wheels. Steven was an extremely talented athlete, performing tricks and feats during baseball and basketball games. He was chosen to be an All-County outfielder. He had an infectious laugh and loved life, his family and his dogs. He enjoyed fishing and golfing. He wrote beautiful music and lyrics and played the piano, guitar and harmonica. He was a giving, generous person. As the only sibling living in Syracuse, he was a devoted son, helping our parents with anything they needed. He did not brag or ask for credit. His passing is a loss to the world. He was predeceased by his father, Michael P. Locaputo in 2017. Steven is survived by his mother, Mary (Froio) Locaputo; siblings, Kathryn (Patrick) Williams, Marie (David) Oppedisano, Michael (Cynthia) Locaputo and Lisa Locaputo; nieces and nephews, Lauren and Michael Williams, Michelle Oppedisano, Jenna, Elizabeth and Christopher Locaputo; along with several relatives and friends. There will be no calling hours, services will be private for immediate family. In lieu of flowers, please donate to St. Matthew's Food Pantry, 229 W Yates St., E. Syracuse, NY 13057 in Steven's memory.
RIP Steven Locaputo - May 30, 1964 - April 28, 2021
Eulogy - written by Marie Oppedisano
Dearest Steven,
It is hard to believe that one of mom’s and dad’s sons - one of our siblings - has passed. How could 56 years of having you with us be over, just like that, when we can see you as you were at so many stages of your life? The years passed and here we are, bereft of your physical presence.
We remember so many things. You had so much hair when you were born. You were the cutest baby. You ate like a bird and for a short while, would only eat spaghettiOs or hotdogs. Yuck! You were always smiling and had an infectious giggle, especially when I was tickling you. You loved the rope swing and laughed and laughed as you slid down the hill. You loved to scoot your crib to the light switch and turn it on. Mom would watch you back into each slat in your playpen until you found the loose one. Then, you escaped.
Your incredible musical talents started at an early age. Remember when Kathryn and I heard you down the street, banging trash can lids with sticks? It sounded so good we thought the neighbor’s band was practicing. You were only two years old!
Every day we played tricks - is that where your love of sports was born? What an athlete you were - making a basket from across the court at the last second or getting out of a sticky pickle between bases. You had a special flair, just like Dad. You were a crowd pleaser, performing legendary feats like catching the ball, prank-stumbling to fool the spectators, and popping up with the ball still in your glove, or somersaulting before catching the ball, or even sliding - full body - on the grass, arm completely outstretched to catch the ball. You were an accomplished switch-hitter, All-County Outfielder and member of the Varsity ESM Champion Baseball Team for two years.
We did not know that you had so many awards, Steven. Among them, you made Dean’s List at RIT and were a member of the National Honor Fraternity of the College and Community at SUNY Canton. You were chosen for Who’s Who based on academic achievement, service to the community and leadership in extra-curricular activities. This selection was from more than 1500 institutions of higher learning in all 50 states, the District of Columbia and several foreign nations. You were so humble that you did not even brag to us of these achievements.
In your professional career you provided technical computer expertise and customer relations support. You sometimes knew more about computer programming than your superiors and helped develop product lines, maintained state of the art Customer Relationship Management databases, and continually solved complicated issues.
Steven, you were a beloved son, brother, uncle, cousin and friend. You loved your nieces and nephews - they used to yell, “Uncle Steven!” and run to you and climb all over you. You drove them places, gave them thoughtful gifts and genuinely cared about them. You cared about us. If I took the train in, you picked me up. If I drove in the winter, you shoveled me out and cleared my car. You even came to Latham to stay with me after surgery, because David had to go out of town, and I was not ambulatory.
We have found so many religious items in your belongings, Steven. One of your rings says, ‘Man of God.’ Another has a cross on it with a religious saying. You were wearing a cross and a St. Stephen medal when you passed. You had a cross and medal in your car. You had rosary beads and prayer books in your bedroom. One of the few things you asked Mom to give you someday was her big wooden rosary draped over the stairs. You once gave me the prayer of St. Jude, when you were only in middle school, because you heard me crying and wanted to comfort me. I know you were a man of faith; it was even evident in the lovely piano music that you wrote. I think you were most at home when you were creating that music. I think you were sharing messages from your soul.
And you had a sensitive soul, Steven, evident in your service to others. You volunteered for Meals on Wheels. You played the piano at nursing homes. You did so much for Mom, by just living here, handling big things like bringing her to the emergency room and managing the many daily chores. This was in addition to you working full time and living some of your own life. You did not complain to us, in fact, we have never heard you speak a bad word about anyone, and we do not even realize now all the tasks you performed. We have an inkling, though, as things have come up. Someone would say, “That’s something Steven did.” Or “Steven did that for Mom.” You also did so much for Mom when Dad was failing.
You once told me, with tears in your eyes, that you would not be able to handle it if anything happened to Mom. And you were so grateful for the help, care and love she bestowed upon you. You and Mom had a special bond and I hope she can feel you in her heart. I know you loved her deeply. I heard your voice one night saying, “I'm here Marie. I can't do all those things for her, but I can look out for her.” Please do.
Your music business card says, ‘Simply Steve.’ That sums you up, Steven. You enjoyed a simple life that called to your gentle soul. You had a big heart. You were generous, unassuming, and steadfast. To us, this is a life lost too soon. We feel your passing is a loss to the world. We will truly miss you, but we know that you are free and at peace. We know that you are without pain and happy. We know that you are with Dad and our grandparents and our other relatives. We know that Jesus called you home because you are needed there. You will forever be in our hearts, dear one. Enjoy heaven. Fly high and soar.
Burial Blessing - Celebration of Life - written by Marie Oppedisano
We are here to celebrate Steven's life. A life is made up of many moments. A life takes many paths. Each path is different. There are trials, joys, times of strife, and times of grief. There are tears and laughter. In our lives we have many encounters. Some people are on our journey for such a short time that we may or may not absorb any lessons from them. Others become, to name a few - relatives, acquaintances, friends, lovers, adversaries, guides or recipients of our assistance. Ultimately, each encounter teaches us and moves us forward towards our own life's purpose. The people who remain in our lives, throughout our lives, are our families. We are together through births, baptisms, birthdays, family gatherings, minor and major events and deaths. We do not know when our family members will die, but we do know that we all go through different phases of our lives where we, at one moment, give support and, at another, receive support. Through it all, the most important lesson and ultimate joy is to give unconditional love. This is the enduring gift Steven gave to each of us, his family, whom he loved with his whole heart and soul. He was steadfast through any misunderstandings, disagreements and miscommunications. He did not allow resentment, sadness, ego or anger to change his feelings towards us. He was happy to share in our joys and successes. He listened without judgement. He selflessly responded to our needs. His love never wavered. He fulfilled his life's purpose. He showed us, through his actions, his love and his open heart and soul, a way for us, as we navigate our own complicated and wondrous journeys, to also reach this blessed state. This, then, is Steven's legacy. We honor it today as we say goodbye to our beloved son and brother. We thank you, Steven, for this generous gift.
Words of Remembrance - Written by Marie Oppedisano
Steven. It is hard to say that word without smiling because when he was a baby, he smiled all the time. He always had such an infectious giggle. He was extremely talented. When he was two, Kathryn and I were walking home from school and we heard some great drumming. We thought it was the boys down the street who had a band, but it was Steven, drumming on sticks on garbage pail lids. Steven was a brilliant pianist and song writer. He also played the guitar and harmonica. He gave us all a CD of his music, and he has sent me his other songs, which I cherish. I so enjoyed when he would play them for me. I will miss hearing them from him live. He also brought great enjoyment to the nursing home residents in the Syracuse area, where he volunteered to play the piano and sing. He posted original songs and covers on his Facebook page, which has turned into a memorial page.
He was an incredible athlete. He was a switch-hitter and kept the pitchers guessing. He was once in what they call a pickle, going back and forth from first to second base. His opponents closed in on him, and he zigzagged back and forth, before finally shooting out and making it to second base. He used to perform athletic tricks and feats while on the field. He sometimes made a show out of catching a ball, and then he would do a tumble move where people would gasp, but he still had the ball in his hand. Alternatively, he would sometimes slide on the grass with his arm completely outstretched to catch the ball or do a somersault in the middle of a play. He had a special flair, just like our father. In a junior high basketball game, he stole the ball, took a shot across the court at the buzzer and made a basket. What a game! He was on the Freshmen baseball team in 8th grade and moved up to JV and Varsity quickly. He was chosen to be an All-County outfielder. His agility began when he was a baby. At a year old, he learned how to scoot his crib to the light switch, turn the light on, climb out of the crib and crawl away. He was an escape artist and could get out of any restraint or enclosed space. His playpen had a loose slat, and my mother watched him back up to each slat until he found the loose one, pushed it aside and crawled out.
Steven was a clown and made us all laugh. He once put on my jeans, shoes, hat and jacket, put my purse over his shoulder and said, “Okay, I’m leaving,” as though he was me going out for the evening. He had everyone fooled. He loved to laugh, and his nose would curl up and down, especially when I tickled him. We used to play what we called Tricks, traipsing around the basement without once touching the floor. I did acrobatics with him the way our dad did with us three older children.
Steven loved to fish, boat and golf. He enjoyed a peaceful life that called to his gentle soul. He also loved dogs. He had one dog in particular that was really special - Dakota. One time, Dakota stood up on his hind paws, put his front paws on Steven’s shoulder and rested his head against Steven. What a sweet sight and testimony to the love Steven had to give. He was generous and open-hearted. He was a beloved son, brother, uncle, cousin and friend. He loved his nieces and nephews. He let them climb all over him when they were small, he drove them places, he gave thoughtful gifts and he genuinely cared about them and all of us. He especially loved his little sister, Lisa, and enjoyed playing with her and supporting her when they were small. We have such wonderful memories. We were fortunate to have such a large family and extended family. We cherish the times we were all together.
Steven was very humble and did not have an arrogant cell in his body. He may have moved slowly, but he was steady. He volunteered for Meals on Wheels. He selflessly helped our parents, both while living at their house or living on his own. He was the only one of the five children to live nearby, so he was a special godsend, both when our father was having so much difficulty before going to a residential home and during the pandemic when my mother could not go out. He helped lift our dad, drove them places, ran errands, took care of their cars, shopped and performed so many tasks around the house. He truly did so much, more than we even realize, to help our parents. He was devoted and didn’t brag or ask for credit.
Steven was very religious. My mother has a big rosary hanging over the stairs. That’s about the only thing he wanted. He had many crucifixes, medals and rings with crosses on them. I remember going through a difficult time in college and he, a junior high student, put a prayer on my bed that warmed my heart and restored my faith. I remember, when our father passed away, one of Michael’s friends told me, “It is a club you do not want to be a part of.” So true. And now, when a sibling dies, it is also true. He was young at heart, and we will miss his humor, generosity and love immensely. We love you, Steven. Please send us a message or come to us in our dreams so we know you are all right. I think you are with Dad now, and I felt both of your presences on the way to Syracuse. Enjoy heaven. Fly high and soar.
Commemoration - Written by Marie Oppedisano
Steven, today we are laying down the plaque for your grave. Your grave marker includes a cross and says Steven R. Locaputo, with the date of your birth and the date of your death. This commemorates your life on earth. This spot marks where you will be for all eternity. This spot is where we can come to feel close to you. It is very peaceful here. You would love it. People passing by will just see your name and those dates on your plaque. But to those of us who love you and knew you, we will remember the things we miss about you - a memory of your laugh, the twinkle in your eye, the sound of your music, a loving task, a heartfelt gesture. Here is your place, where we can come, say your name, feel all that you mean to us. We can keep you close, revel in memories and reflect on our times with you. Although you are not physically here, we can keep you alive through our memories and in our hearts. In the Bible is a saying from Ecclesiastes:
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die. . .
This is the way of it, from time immemorial. Birth, life, death - unchangeable, invariable, unalterable. We end our lives with a marker bearing our name. Steven, here is yours. Rest in peace, dear brother. Your family loves you dearly.
One Year Anniversary - Written by Marie Oppedisano
Dear Steven,
Can it possibly be a year since God called you home to be among the angels - to become a soldier of Christ and fight the good fight? It’s so hard to believe. And although we don't know where He has sent you, we are proud of you, for all you accomplished on Earth and what you are doing now.
I know you are looking out for those of us here, who still grieve your passing. I know you are especially looking out for Mom, who loved you so much.
You know, I still find myself holding my breath when a memory comes up on Facebook- a picture of you, of us, or of the family, or, in particular, a memory of you playing and/or singing one of your songs. I haven’t been able to listen out of sorrow, but I share them because your songs are truly beautiful. I truly feel you shared part of your soul while you played. I’m sure as more time passes, I will be able to listen to your voice, your piano playing and your guitar playing again. I’m so grateful you gave us all a CD of your piano music. I wonder what your music sounds like now with all the celestial instruments and heavenly voices blending in. Perhaps someday I’ll hear it in a dream - your music and Dad’s harmonizing.
Here is something I didn't tell you when you passed. The day before your private family service, Michelle was practicing her songs with the organist. I was sitting at the back of the church, listening, thinking about you, and literally sobbing tears of grief and sorrow. I thought of all the people you have touched here on Earth. I was a little sad that your only send-off the next day would be just your immediate family. Suddenly I felt a brightness in the church. I looked up and I had such a sense of the church full of beings, full of our ancestors. The brightness filled every pew. I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew that you wouldn’t be alone. I knew that our ancestors would be there to honor you as we were saying our goodbyes.
And at the funeral service, when I was sitting on the side of the altar between readings, I sensed you come up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. I sensed Dad come up to me and put a hand on my other shoulder. I sensed our grandparents surround me. The feeling was so strong that I actually looked around to see if anyone else saw or felt this. I was so happy to feel that our relations were waiting to welcome you with open arms as you left this earthly plane to rise up to the heavens.
If you can, Steven, please inspire us and love us. If you can, remember us and intercede for us. Keep us safe until we again meet you and all of our relatives who have gone before us. Rest in peace, dear brother and friend. Your loving sister, Marie
What’s your fondest memory of Steven?
What’s a lesson you learned from Steven?
Share a story where Steven's kindness touched your heart.
Describe a day with Steven you’ll never forget.
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