Welcome to What We Remember, our reader-submitted obituary series. Submit your story for next Sunday’s installment here.
Michelle A. Lubrino, 62
Crowned Miss Teen
Fourteen years my senior, Michelle was my big sister and second mom. Growing up, I was her shadow. I loved riding around in her blue Camaro, listening to Madonna.
She was beautiful — crowned Miss Teen Westchester, in fact — and kind. When I was diagnosed with leukemia, she gave up her dream of going away to college to care for me through spinal taps and blood transfusions.
Each night, when I should have been fast asleep, I held out for the faint squeak of my bedroom door, knowing it was Michelle coming home to check on me.
When Michelle endured her own battle with cancer, I wanted to be there for her, too. Yet she remained the big sister, always strong and smiling, telling me not to worry.
Losing her breaks my heart, but I still wait for my bedroom door to creak open at night, feeling like she’s still watching over me.
Michelle A. Lubrino was a wife, mother, daughter and sister, who loved the gym, the beach and a really good margarita. She died Aug. 12, 2026, in Lakewood Ranch, Florida. — By her brother Mark Jason Williams
Ruby Jean Morgan, 91
‘A bushel and a peck’
Ruby always ended her conversations with “I love you a bushel and a peck, and a hug around the neck.” She was a true coal miner’s daughter, born into poverty with no indoor plumbing.
In the 39 years I knew Ruby as my mother-in-law, I can honestly say we never had an argument. During the darkest of days, when I was six months pregnant, my husband, her son, was killed while flying in Alaska.
With no hesitation, she was at my side, handling all of the painful details. Ruby helped me raise an incredible daughter. I will always be grateful and “love Ruby a bushel and a peck.”
Ruby Jean Morgan was a U.S. Navy wife, a Navy mother, an Army grandmother and a college graduate. She died Aug. 27, 2026, in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. — By her daughter-in-law Brigid Morgan
Maria Castillo, 82
Preparing is caring
The last lesson I learned from my mother was one I had already learned from her a decade before, when she received a prognosis that she had one more year to live.
On the way home from that doctor’s appointment, she asked me to have an attorney prepare her estate. She lived well beyond one more year.
When she was in the hospital on Dec. 22, 2025, and all of the doctors and nurses had left her room, I tried to comfort her and said, “Don’t worry, you’ve had edema before from other treatments.” She gently responded, “This is not like the other times.”
The lesson had been repeated one last time: Speaking up and being prepared throughout life shows you care about yourself, but more importantly, it shows you care for those around you.
Maria Castillo was a certified nursing assistant. She died Jan. 10, 2026, in Miami. — By her son David Castillo
Grieving a loved one? Tell us what made them special.
The Post is publishing reader-submitted obituaries as part of a weekly feature, What We Remember.
Last week’s installment included a student of revolution who ate bugs and rats during WWI.
The post The sister who blasted Madonna in a blue Camaro, and other lives we lost appeared first on Washington Post.
