It’s an honor to share a few words about someone who left a positive mark on my life—Mike Montague.

Mike and I shared something special from the start—we were both Christmas babies, born on December 25th, 24 years apart. We also have loving partners named Ken, and share a deep passion for music. For twenty years, we sat side by side in the Northwinds Concert Band, clarinets in hand and music in our hearts. But more than that, Mike was my musical mentor.
He was an extraordinarily talented musician, always in pursuit of the perfect sound. Whether it was offering me alternate fingerings, helping me figure out a tricky passage, or suggesting small changes to improve tone, Mike’s guidance was always spot-on. He was constantly tinkering—trying new combinations of mouthpieces, ligatures, and barrels, searching for just-the right sound. He even made his own reeds—some of the best I’ve ever played on! His knowledge was vast, and he shared it so generously.
But it wasn’t just musical wisdom he passed along. Every Tuesday night at rehearsal, Mike delivered gentle life lessons—little pieces of insight I didn’t always realize were treasures until much later. In his soft-spoken way, he encouraged, uplifted, and taught me how to truly listen, not just to the music, but to life.
Mike supported me in everything I pursued. When I told him about my work as a reading consultant, he lit up with curiosity and pride. You see, Mike was also a scientist. His passion for science matched his love of music, and our conversations would often dive deep into the science of reading, the science behind music, and everything in between.
When I became a mother, Mike beamed with pride. He always mentioned how smart she was going to be because she had two musicians for parents. Mike was fascinated not just by my daughter’s musical genetics—offering tips on how to develop her perfect pitch—but also by her very existence. I call her my “miracle baby” but I think Mike was thrilled that she existed through the advancements in science, she being an IVF baby! I shared weekly reports about her antics and her growth, and this brought him pure joy.

One moment that has stayed with me happened on my 50th birthday, as I approached this milestone, Mike gave me a piece of advice that I now carry into my 50s. He said, “Enjoy your 50s. You’ve got the smarts—you’ve learned so much—and you still have your health. Now’s the time to live life, go places, do things, and share your wisdom.”
Mike’s words have become my mantra. They inspired me to take charge of my health, to lose over 50 pounds, and to find the courage to use my voice, to not be afraid to speak up, advocate for others, and to live life fully. I’m still a work in progress, but Mike’s voice echoes in my heart and keeps me moving forward.

So, in honor of Mike, I encourage you to take his advice to heart:
Live fully. Share your wisdom. Embrace the music. And celebrate the beautiful differences that make life so rich.
Thank you, Mike, for your music, your science, your kindness, and your light. Your legacy lives on in every note we play, every life you touched, and every Tuesday night memory we carry with us.
*I read these words at Mike’s “Celebration of Life” service on June 21, 2025. I also had the great privilege of performing the piece Rhosymedre, arranged for clarinet quintet.





