Michael Alphonsus Abboud

Michael Alphonsus Abboud

November 20, 1933 – March 15, 2025 Aged 91, of Omaha, Nebraska

Michael Alphonsus Abboud passed away on Saturday March 15, 2025. He was preceded in death by his parents, Anthony and Josephine Abboud; his siblings, David, Daniel, and Gene Abboud; his sisters, Judy Dukas, Mary Jane Abboud, and Gloria Dubuc; and his amazing, firecracker of a wife, Sharon Staroski Abboud. He leaves behind his four children: Michael Abboud (Ailin), Jeff Abboud, Lesley Holcomb, and Ashley Abboud (Adam Wiltgen); nine grandchildren; and his brother, John Abboud (Marian) and many nieces and nephews and cousins.

If Michael had his way this obituary would be one sentence: Michael Abboud died. And if you asked Michael whether he’d rather wrestle a person to the ground or make conversation, you’d be pinned in three seconds.

Michael was a quiet and loving man who showed his love by making sure everyone was well-fed. If you came to his house, you ate. If you got sick, he made you homemade chicken broth and quietly worried about your fever—though instead of calling himself, he’d ask his wife to check on you multiple times a day. He was the dad who showed up with homemade food or some unbelievable deal from the grocery store (Bakers, you’re going to miss his daily visits) but wouldn’t stay more than two minutes because he never wanted to overstay his welcome. He was the one who would cook a breakfast feast, call you last minute to say he just "whipped something up," insist it was no big deal—then demand you eat. He’d stand while you sat. He’d give before he’d take. He was the quiet side to our mother’s wild side, but he could and would back up her words.

He was the dad who scooped you up off the floor when your heart broke—or when you were passed out on the lawn—but would also tell you, “Shut up your face.” He never said goodbye at the end of a phone call—he’d just hang up. He told us most things weren’t a big deal and that family was everything. And when life got hard, he’d remind us: This too shall pass. Even the pain of losing him.

Michael would shy away from the spotlight every chance he could, so he’d hate that I’m telling you all this, just like he’d hate me mentioning that he’s a veteran of the Army and was deployed for two years in Japan. That he owned Michael’s II and Michael’s Capital Bar and Grill. He’d hate me telling you that he got stopped on the street like a celebrity by people who remembered his enchiladas and refried beans (and to this day, I still don’t know how a Middle Eastern man ended up making Mexican food). And he definitely wouldn’t want me to mention that he’s in the Nebraska Hall of Fame for wrestling as a four-time state champion. He’d just tell you he started wrestling because it meant free lunches.

But if there’s one thing he didn’t mind sharing, it was his wisdom. So in his words:

“Any idiot can get married, and most do.” “Don’t write anything down you don’t want found.”

“This too, shall pass” and “Don’t waste time hating anyone.”

So raise a Stella Artois or a Drambuie in his honor.

Michael’s life will be celebrated in a private gathering with family and close friends at a later date.