Matthew John Deede died on August 9, 2026, at the age of 54.

Born March 11, 1972, Matthew lived life with an intensity that was uniquely his own. He was extraordinarily talented, endlessly curious, and always ready to throw himself into something new. When something captured his interest, Matthew was all in—at least until the next challenge, idea, or adventure caught his attention. Finishing was not always his strong suit. A project might make it almost to completion before Matthew moved on, leaving behind the last details, a half-painted house, or something that everyone else was quite certain was almost finished. But Matthew loved the challenge of figuring things out, learning something new, and discovering whether he could do it—and more often than not, he could.

Music was one of the great threads woven throughout his life. Gifted with an almost instinctive musical ability, Matthew could pick up nearly any instrument and somehow play it as though he had been practicing for a lifetime. From playing tuba in high school to finding a home with the bass guitar, music gave Matthew both an outlet and a community. Over the years, he played with several bands, including D-, Big Mother Gig, and The Milwaukee Tool Shed Band, along with guest appearances with other musicians and groups. For those who had the privilege of hearing him play, his talent was unmistakable.

But music was only one of Matthew's many passions. RC car racing, four-wheeler racing, bowling, skateboarding, snowmobiling—if it moved fast, required skill, invited competition, or offered the possibility of mastering something new, there was a good chance Matthew would try it. And once he tried something, simply participating was rarely enough. He pursued the things that captured his attention with enthusiasm and intensity, often taking them to the extreme—mastering the challenge, enjoying the ride, and sometimes moving on to the next adventure before anyone else realized he was finished with the last one.

That same ability to understand how things worked shaped Matthew's professional life. He began panel building at his family's manufacturing company, Automated Finishing, Inc., and later served as a Senior Engineering Technician at Milwaukee Electric Tool. Eventually, his skill, ingenuity, and ability to fix seemingly anything led him to establish his own handyman business, Cream City Handyman Service.

Yet perhaps Matthew's greatest gift had nothing to do with what he could build, fix, play, race, or master. Matthew connected with people. He could be the life of any gathering, and he had a remarkable ability to engage the person in front of him. He made friends across all kinds of boundaries and walks of life. There was an energy about Matthew that drew people toward him, and countless people have stories that begin simply because Matthew struck up a conversation.

Matthew was also a person who carried deep struggles. Throughout much of his life, he lived with addiction and mental illness. Those struggles were real, painful, and sometimes overwhelming, but they are not the whole of Matthew's story. On August 9, Matthew died by suicide.

His family chooses to speak honestly about the manner of his death because silence and stigma do not honor Matthew or the countless individuals and families who know the realities of addiction and mental illness. Matthew was more than the struggles he carried and more than the circumstances of his death. He was a father, son, brother, uncle, great-uncle, musician, engineer, craftsman, competitor, friend, and a person whose presence was difficult to miss and impossible to duplicate.

Matthew is survived by his sons, Seth Deede and Tallen Deede; his mother, Rev. Claudia Deede; his sister, Rev. Krysta Deede; his nephew, Jevon Deede, and Jevon's wife, Callie Deede; his great-niece and great-nephew, Lynley Deede and John Deede; and Tammy Deede, his former wife and the mother of Seth and Tallen.

He was preceded in death by his father, John Deede.

Those who loved Matthew will grieve the life that has ended, but also the life that was lived—the music, the laughter, the adventures, the stories, the projects, the friendships, the occasional chaos, and the unmistakable way Matthew could fill a room.

Matthew's relationship with faith was complicated. He wrestled with belief and with what it meant to trust in a God he could not always understand or feel. Yet within that wrestling, there was faith. His questions were real, but so, too, were the glimpses of belief that remained a part of him.

For Matthew's family, there is comfort in trusting that the struggles he carried in this life are no longer his to bear. We entrust him now to the God whose love is greater than our questions, our struggles, our illnesses, and even death itself. We find peace in believing that Matthew is now at rest with his Creator—fully known, fully loved, and finally at peace.

Matthew's life was not perfect. No life is. His story included tremendous gifts and tremendous struggles, joy and pain, accomplishments and disappointments, laughter and heartache. And through all of it, Matthew was deeply loved.

His death does not erase his life.

And his struggles do not get the final word about who he was.

Love does.

In lieu of flowers, memorials will be used to establish a trust for his children. A private burial will be held in Townsend, Wisconsin and a celebration of life will be held at a later date. Please check back for details.