Anthony M. Amato

Anthony Michael "Buddy" Amato was born on August 3, 1985, at Pasack Valley Hospital in Westwood, New Jersey, obviously one of our happiest days. He was beautiful and a happy baby, but somewhat headstrong.

Anthony was a unique and complex child. He was classified early on in school, because he had difficulty concentrating. His first grade teacher picked this up in him. Make no mistake; he was extremely bright and well liked later on, but he had social issues, and it took much effort to get him to a place and school that he liked. That took more than ten years. In the last years of his life, he went to six schools in five years.

We moved to a more affluent area one and a half months before his death, to give Anthony and his sister, Lauren, a better life. He appeared to like Hillsdale; he still saw his old friends and made new ones. He was finally beginning to bring homework home and was proud of his progress. He was positive, finally, and had aspirations of being a musician. The school system he went to let him be himself, and he needed that. He learned to respect the law and authority. He even helped solve a crime in our old town. For show or effect, he always tried to appear negative, but I knew he was finally happy with himself.

He was very difficult at times; he did have a problem with depression, so we dealt with the doctors and the wrong medications, but we finally hit on a doctor and a medication that agreed with him. We loved him and tried to push him in the right direction – karate, baseball, wrestling. He just wanted to play music, so we bought him all of the musical tools he needed, and after two years of playing guitar, he was quite good. He also worked as a part-time caretaker at a petting zoo.

Anthony's talents included playing and writing music. He was creative and witty. He hated to read, but articulated so well. He was just so naturally bright, and started to see that, but he was just never totally convinced of it. In his free time, he enjoyed playing his guitar, LOUD. He liked being in his room, and at all of his male and female friends' houses… you all know who you are! He wasn't an outdoor person, other than liking to hang and ride his skateboard.

He loved comfort, good food, and his possessions… I know that sounds shallow, but he valued everything. I think the term is "packrat." Every chain or little object was important to him. His friends were all like family and he loved and cherished them, and we fed and took care of so many – and still do. I know he wants us to. And he also was just so fond of music, playing and listening. And last, but not least, he was very loving to his grandmother and mom, but he could still be difficult. He was my best friend, but didn't realize it. I wanted to see him grow out of adolescence, be a man, and be my best friend. Maybe he did consider me that, but he never told me.

Anthony hated manual labor; he was of the opinion that he shouldn't have to work hard, just smart – and he did. We got him many well-paying jobs, from friends and such, but he never lasted long. He was such a salesman; he would have paid someone half of what he made to do the dirty work. Manual labor wasn't his thing, but he did help out periodically around our old house. He worked so hard when we moved! I was so impressed! Some people are laborers and some salesman. He and I are the latter!

He didn't know what to believe, spiritually. The irony is that now he does; otherwise, we wouldn't be getting so many signs. He is now pure love and keeps showing us, especially his mother and grandmother. They had a special bond with him and tried to nurture him and express God's love and his self-worth. He was starting to understand! At least I believe that.

He was our heart and soul and love that will never be replaced. He was difficult, but a joy and such a beautiful kid – loved by all, but struggling constantly to find himself. He was on his way, but died during the process. He loved animals and hated confrontation. He always told his friends that he thought his parents were cool. We gave in a lot, but he needed constant gratification. That was his downfall.

We never regretted spoiling him. He needed more love and attention than other kids. He had such a great, but strange, sense of humor. He dyed his hair green, his favorite color, and had to dye his pet mouse's white coat green. He did it meticulously with a Q-Tip and non-toxic dye. He has been gone just a little more than four months, but the mouse is still green… only the lower half.

Our favorite memories of Anthony are his beautiful face, his unique personality, never knowing what to expect from him, and this complex near-adult as such a beautiful, gentle, and sensitive baby and toddler. We used to take him with us everywhere. In 15 years, we were only away from him for about five days. We knew he needed us and were always worried about his compulsiveness. And our worst fears are now our saddest days. He is missed more than he knows, or maybe he does know!

Anthony died on October 22, 2000, at Hackensack Hospital in Hackensack, New Jersey. He is survived by his parents, Michael and Ann Susan Amato; sister, Lauren Marie Amato; grandparents, Silverio and Carmella Vitiello and Michael and Mary Amato; uncles, Tom Fitzgerald, Joseph Kruty, and Mark Leili; aunts, Marie Fitzgerald and Sharon Amato; and cousins, Donna Fitzgerald, Michael Fitzgerald, Justin Kruty, Eric Kruty, Nashama Leili, and Mark Leili. He was predeceased by his great-grandparents, Jeannette Amato and Ralph Amato Sr.; great aunt, Mary Maresca; great uncle, Ralph Amato Jr.; cousin, Hassida Leili; aunt, Joanne Amato Leili; and brother, Joseph Amato.

At Anthony's wake and funeral, no fewer than 250 children paid their respects. So many were crying uncontrollably, and we still get calls about his visits to his friends in so many unique ways. He was pure energy and won't let anyone forget, ever. I had no idea, but his odd sense of humor and manner touched many, including myself and my wife and daughter. Almost every teacher he ever had came to pay their respects… that has to say something!

There are so many things we remember about Anthony, but the funniest is his hair thing; he used to spike it and color it. It was a foot high; I used to get so angry. He had to sleep on his face so he wouldn't mess his hairdo up. And the colors were red, blue, green – that was his favorite, the green hair, and of course, dying his mouse green! I could go on about his strange sense of humor, but I won't; only we, his parents and friends, understood him. His complexity was his beauty! Look at all of the great geniuses. As the saying goes, "No great genius comes without some sense of madness."

– Mike Amato, Anthony's best friend and Dad. I love you Buddy, forever! See you soon!