Stephen Phillip Romero

It is with a heavy heart that we announce the passing of Stephen Romero. He died on June 27th, age 64, from complications due to an ulcer. However his family suspects that, being tired of the year 2020, he decided to reincarnate to another, much better year far in the future where he can finally have a flying car. He was the son of Adolf and Tesse, one of two boys in a family of seven. He is preceded in death by his parents, his older brother Gene, his nephew Mario, and his greatest love, Bagira the cat.

Steve had the soul of a poet, the heart of a very friendly golden retriever, and he looked a lot like Santa. He hated going to work in a 9-5 office with shop-talk by the water cooler. While he may have not been suited to the 40th floor, he was made to be a dad. His three kids, intelleget, awesome, and incredibly good-looking, were also blessed to have the funnest, silliest, and most playful dad in the known universe.

Many years ago, Steve lived in the mountains of Colorado. He had very few neighbors which was as he liked it, because while he loved people, he really hated being told what to do. In the snowy mountains, Steve had all kinds of fun with his kids, some of it really very ridiculous. One year he attempted to pass on to his children all of his dog-sledding knowledge (he'd probably seen a picture). Together, they arranged the sled and calmed the wild golden retriever. The kids somewhat securely on the sled, Steve issued the command, Mush! The excited dog leapt forward. For a glorious moment the dog sledding worked perfectly...until Cody, the dog, decided there was something interesting in a different direction. The sled overturned; three small backsides slid down the hill, sledless, with Steve laughing his butt off. This was an average Saturday.

Christmas was a big deal to Steve. They would usually involve a national lampoon-esque trip to cut an unreasonably sized Christmas tree. Once the tree was so large that the whole 20 foot tree collapsed in the middle of the night, causing everyone in the house to come running out in their pajamas at 3am on Christmas. One year, Steve snuck out in the middle of the night and assembled a swing set in the yard in the freezing Colorado snow. He made sure to leave reindeer tracks and even left sooty boot prints around the fireplace. As a final detail, he meticulously ate all the cookies.

Steve was a sweet, quirky, and horribly cheesy man. He loved campfires and ghost stories, playing guitar, and his kids. But more than anything, he loved his cat Bagira, a mangy black cat who was honestly kind of a jerk. And Bagira loved him. He would sit on Steve's chest and rub his head against his beard, purring like an un-muffled motorcycle engine. Bagira is certainly with Steve at this very moment, wherever he might be.

Steve worked as a programmer at US West, before opening a hypnosis clinic and later a bathtub winery(Rome Rose). For a few years Steve worked for the Evergreen school district where he would, on occasion, check his kids out of school for the afternoon and take them out for ice cream. When Steve moved back to New Mexico, he worked for Intel which he hated. So he opened up his own electronics store which was a total disaster. He was of course way too kind for business and often gave people huge discounts just because he liked them. He was always, at his core, a musician. Gentle guitar was the backdrop of his home. Of course sometimes he played heavy metal. But always there was music.

Services will be held at Berardinelli Family Funeral Service(1399 Luisa St, Santa Fe, NM 87505) on Monday, July 6th at 10 am.

The family requests, if you happen to be camping by the fire this summer, that you make a toast to Steve, and honor him by telling the cheesiest ghost story you know.

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