January 25, 2023

Brandon Jorge Norona
https://www.rosehills.com/obituaries/whittier-ca/brandon-norona-11118647
See you soon
Uncle

January 25, 2023

It is with much sorrow that I have to announce the passing of my son Brandon. No words can describe the depth of pain and loss my family is going through. Brandon was a smart, loving, compassionate human being, whose smile lit up a room. He would do anything to help out a friend. Brandon was God's gift to me and my family. For 35 years, we laughed, we played and we prayed, we shared life together. He will be forever in our hearts. We miss him every day.

He had so many things going for him, yet he struggled with depression and anxiety, feeling lonely and alone. Having many who loved him, he isolated himself. Mental illness is a struggle that many of us share. It seems like in today's society it has become more and more prevalent.

While my family grieves and are mourning Brandon's passing, we want to celebrate his life. We like to meet those who were close to him and were touched by his life. Our son is in the hands of the most high, Jesus Christ. While my son struggled in his life he always had a heart for God. I look forward to the day i will see him again.

We love you all
Jorge, Annette, Cory and Jordan

Feb 14, 2025

Farewell to our Nephew, Cory
It’s hard to find the right words when someone so full of life is suddenly gone.
Cory was only 35 — far too young. He was the youngest son of my sister, and he carried a spark in him that was impossible to miss. He was smart, funny, and overflowing with energy. He had that rare mix of charm and curiosity that made him a joy to be around. If you knew Cory, you remember his laughter, his spirit, and the way he made any moment feel bigger and brighter.
Cory was many things — a son, a grandson, a brother, and a loyal friend to so many. But more than anything, he was a father. His daughter Gianna was his world. You could see it in the way he spoke about her, the way he lit up whenever her name came up. As much as he loved riding his motorcycle, he loved Gianna even more. She grounded him, gave him purpose, and filled him with pride.
In recent months, Cory had started talking to me about his dreams of getting into the computer field. You could hear the excitement in his voice, the hope of new beginnings. We were so happy and proud to help him take those first steps. It meant a lot to all of us to see him reaching for something that inspired him.
Cory had already endured great loss — the passing of his older brother Brandon and his grandmother, Boonia. And yet, he kept going. He kept loving. He kept laughing. He kept showing up for the people who mattered.
Now, as we say goodbye, we hold on to the memories — the joy, the mischief, the conversations, and the deep love that Cory shared with us all.
His story doesn’t end here. Cory lives on through Gianna — in her smile, in her strength, and in the future she carries forward. And he lives on in us — in our stories, our hearts, and our love for who he was and who he was becoming.
Cory, we love you. We miss you. And we will never forget you.
Ride free, nephew.
— Uncle, Tia, Noah and Hannah

July 3, 2025

Saying Goodbye to My Big Sister
By Bill Sherbacoff

For those who don't know me, I'm Bill Sherbacoff — Annette's younger brother.

This is such a sad day for me because I lost my sister. She was there for almost every major moment in my life. We started attending Calvary together in high school. She was the first person I told when I decided I wanted to marry my now wife of 32 years. Annette even went with me to pick out the engagement ring.

We were in business together when we started a construction company. She was a hoot to be around. I loved that when she had a new boyfriend — and eventually when she started dating Jorge — I had full reign over her car. At 16, that was GOLDEN!

She was funny, one of the very few people who could out-sarcasm me in a normal conversation.

She once told me that when I was younger, she used to protect me from our brother and get in between us during fights… though she quickly learned to change that strategy.

She was there during my stupid moments too. When I spent a night in jail for drinking and driving, I called her the next day. She didn’t yell. She just asked why I hadn’t called earlier.

Annette was a fantastic sister. She’ll always have a special place in my heart. You never had to guess how Annette felt — she told you. Brutally honest, but always with grace.

These last couple of years have been incredibly hard on our family. In just two and a half years, we lost Brandon… then Mom… then Cory… and now Annette.

Loss like this brings deep sorrow — and big questions. It’s in moments like these, when everything feels heavy, that we begin to think more seriously about God, eternity, and what comes next.

But for believers, there’s hope.

The Bible says, “To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.” That’s not just a religious phrase — it’s a promise of victory. For those who don’t believe, death can feel like a tragic end. But for Annette, I can tell you this — she knew what Christ did for her. She believed in His love and His promise:

“If you confess with your mouth and believe in your heart that Jesus is Lord, you will be saved.”

I believe Annette died of a broken heart. Life had simply become unbearably heavy.

She once told me that while Brandon’s absence hurt, it was easier to imagine him just away — traveling, living his life. But Cory lived in the house. And every quiet day after he passed was a painful reminder that he was gone. The silence never left her.

Still, in the middle of all that pain, she held onto gratitude. She told me more than once how thankful she was for the 35 years she had with each of her boys. She loved them fiercely. Whether they were sitting around the table or hadn’t spoken in a while, they were always in her thoughts, and always in her heart.

When Mom was diagnosed with cancer, God used that season to bring Annette and me closer. Our family reunited. That time helped us move beyond just being siblings — we became true friends. Even through the grief of losing Brandon and Mom, Annette and I leaned on each other. We searched together for meaning, and we trusted that God had a plan.

Romans 8:28 reminds us:

“We know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”

When Brandon passed, it hit us like a freight train. The enemy was at the door, trying to shake our faith and tear us apart — but we stood strong. We stayed close. We held Annette up.

Then came time to say goodbye to Mom. Many of you here prayed for her, visited her, and supported our family. We are so grateful for the love we felt — especially from our church family at Calvary La Habra. Annette, Mike, and I were at Mom’s bedside when she took her final breath. It was surreal, sacred. Once again, Annette and I leaned on each other.

The year that followed had its challenges. Annette and I clashed more than once — mostly over how long it was taking to go through Mom’s things. And yes, Mom had a lot of stuff!

I must’ve flown back ten times before we finally sold her home. But looking back now, I wouldn’t change a thing. We spent time together — talking, cleaning, eating, and remembering. That time was special.

And then came Cory.

I’ll never forget the call when she told me he had passed. That loss was different. Not less painful — just different. After Cory, her joy faded. Her heart was broken, and she never truly recovered.

Mother’s Day was especially hard. This year, I sent her a short message that reminded me of her — of the strength she carried and the love she gave her boys. I’ll be honest — I read it at least ten times before hitting send. I was worried I might say the wrong thing. In fact, many of our conversations started with me saying:

“Forgive me for all the stupid and insensitive things I’m probably about to say…”

But here’s the message I sent:

"Happy Mother’s Day, Annette.
I know this day brings both love and pain.
You’ve carried a kind of strength that words can’t fully describe.
The love you gave your children still echoes in everything you do.
Even in quiet sorrow, may you feel their love wrapped around you.
You are, and always will be, a remarkable mother — deeply loved, deeply admired, and never alone."

She replied:

“Thank you, Billy. You got me. Today was harder than I expected. Jorge bought me roses and left a card from the boys — something they would’ve wanted him to continue. Cory was always the first to say ‘I love you’ on this day. I cried when I read your message. I love you so much.”

That was Annette — loving, honest, tender, loyal. Broken at times, yes, but strong in ways many never saw.

For those of you asking “Why?” — Why her? Why now? Why so much grief in so little time? — I don’t have all the answers. But I hold on to these promises from Scripture:

John 11:25-26
“I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live.”

1 Thessalonians 4:13-14
“We do not grieve as those who have no hope... for we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in Him.”

John 16:22
“Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.”

Annette was deeply loved. And she will be deeply missed. But through Christ, we believe this is not the end. One day, we will see her again.

Thank you.

I love you and will miss you.
You are forever… My Big Sister.

— Billy

July 9, 2025

we talked about this song not long ago https://youtu.be/9xXhybPk2q8?si=SPQg9OxTXTVWqZKF