Matthew Ignatiev
My cousin Matthew died suddenly last Thursday in Hubertus, Wisconsin. He was 43 years old. I have been trying to come to grips with this ever since.
For as long as I can remember Matt has been part of my life. I loved spending time with my cousin and his family. My Uncle Dimitry and my Aunt Kristin were wonderful hosts, and I fondly remember the many times we ate dinner at their house, or attended family gatherings there. We were very fortunate to grow up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where my father grew up and his widely ramified family lived. My father George was Matt’s godfather, and my cousin Lisa was his godmother.
Matt was a born con-man, but the one thing he lacked was a willingness to take advantage of people. He was perhaps the single worst liar I’ve ever known. He literally could not believe that people bought his wild tall tales; inevitably he would break down laughing at our credulity. And his laugh was goofy as hell.
We had so much in common: a love for Milwaukee, a fondness for diner food (really, any food), and deep connections to our family, the Ignatiev family. We didn’t speak often but we always made time to meet, however briefly, when we were near each other. Matt always knew where to find the best cup of coffee, the best hamburger, and the dive with the best vibe for a given night (many times it was Wolski’s Tavern).
He legendarily made it onto an episode of D3 with Guy Fieri, and hammed it up enormously. I knew that if I was lucky enough to spend a day with Matt, I’d eat like a king, be entertained, and see a new piece of Milwaukee I’d never encountered before. He had an eye for architecture and a love for old buildings.
My uncle’s death hit everyone hard, even though it was not unexpected; his body was ravaged by cancer caused by Agent Orange. My uncle Mitch is remembered to this day as the best of his generation; a conscientious objector and pacifist, he served in Vietnam as a medical corpsman. He had a beautiful voice and sang devotedly in the church choir. He loved his children and nieces and nephews. When we slept over at their house he would stay up with us and watch monster movies late at night. If I remember correctly, I first saw King Kong, The Mummy, Frankenstein, and Godzilla while we were sleeping over at their house (not on the same night).
Matt’s chief concern, when his father died, was his younger brother Pete. Pete was exceptionally close to my uncle; he was the baby of the family. I know that for a long time Matt was worried that Pete wouldn’t make it after my uncle died. Thankfully, Aunt Kristin married Andy Cmeyla, a wonderful man with his own son Zach, and they made a beautiful blended family. Pete grew up in the restaurant world, married Jessica, and they now have their own food truck. Matt was extraordinarily proud of Pete and his family.
Matt also had a very close relationship with his sister Emily. He was a very protective older brother; all of his sister’s friends were his charge. But he wasn’t chauvinistic; he behaved like the spit and image of his father. The same care he showed for Emily he lavished on her children.
Matt leaves behind a large, loving family. His daughter Ella was the most important person in his life, and he struggled mightily to be the best father he could be. We were all very close when Ella was young, but unfortunately I didn’t have the ability to maintain that closeness. Ella is an amazing young woman who I know misses her father.
I find I’m leaving so much out. I could go on at length about Matt, describing his life and what he did for us all without ever painting a complete picture of the man. He poured himself out helping people. We all wish he had reserved some of his strength and care for himself. I didn’t tell him enough how much I loved him and how much he meant to me. He was the brother I never had. He was everyone’s brother. May his memory be eternal.
