Living in the same home for over 34 years has made our neighborhood  a family of friends. This past week Tim, one of the pillars of our community, lost his father Jim. I have known this family the entire time we have lived here, but it was not until today did I understand the love of this clan. Tim is from a family of eight, yes eight, four brothers and three sisters.

Tim’s parents were married 63 years. To witness Tim’s mother Harriet at her husband’s service was nothing more than pure love. It was through the grace of God that this beautiful lady could carry herself so well. When you serve God like she and Jim, you know that the Lord will hold you through every trial.

Catholic funerals are filled with tradition and are rich in symbolism. The Paschal Candle is  used only on three occasions, Easter, Christmas, and funerals. These three occurrences are great celebrations and Jim’s life was a glorification of  love. His entire family participated in his service. Tim and his four brothers Greg, John, Brian, and Freddie were pallbearers along with Eddie and Roberto, the son’s-in-law. The readings were read by two of Jim’s daughters, Teresa and Val. The gifts were brought up by all of Jim’s daughter’s-in-law, Adele (my neighbor), Sharon, Valerie, Nadine, and Jennifer. Jim’s daughter Karen led the intercessional prayers. The 24 grandchildren gathered in the choir section fighting off tears as they sang a beautiful sendoff song “On Eagles Wing’s” to their beloved grandfather.

I never met Jim, but I now know what type of a man he was. Tim is an example of the extension of love from both of his parents, as I have witnessed throughout the years how Tim and Adele have brought up  their two children. Marisa still drives the same car her mother drove from the days Marisa was in elementary school. This vehicle, which has over 280,000 miles, is just one example of not spoiling their children. I watched for years as Tim caught the ball while Ryan pitched. This paid off as Ryan was on the Diamondback major league baseball team. Ryan is currently teaching and coaching at Mt. Sac (Mt. San Antonio College) in Walnut, CA. Marisa was recently accepted to Ochsner Medical School in New Orleans. I watched these two grow up and become their grandfather Jim’s beam in his eyes.

Tim’s father Jim and his mother Harriet attended daily Mass, so I know from my own experience that his family was saturated in prayer. Tim, Adele, Ryan and Marisa were with Jim and Harriet a week before he was called home. Tim was there as a servant, painting his parent’s garage door. What a sweet goodbye they shared that day. The family has no regrets, no “I only wish I could have done this.” No, that was not the way Jim raised his family.

As the patriarch paves the road home to heaven, Jim will be remembered even by someone who never met him but grew to love what he has contributed to this world. Jim provided much hope for his family as he was a perfect illustration on how we should live our lives.

The incense filled the air of St. Martha as Jim was passing for one last time through the aisles of his parish. Outside the church three bells announced the homecoming of a great soldier.

Revelation 8:4New King James Version (NKJV)

⁴ And the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, ascended before God from the angel’s hand.

My mother was a complex person who loved her family. We were seven, four girls and three boys. Each one of us called her “My Mother.” All of her grandchildren called her “Ma”; she adored them.

By the time I was eight years old, our parent’s marriage unraveled. Once our father was out of the picture, our Mom became our rock. She used everything in her being to make sure we grew up to be good honorable Christians. I can remember coming home from school to homemade flour tortillas, which we would load up with butter and eat as many as four in one sitting.

She loved to read and she always kept up with politics. It was later in life that she received her GED, which was a huge accomplishment because she had only completed 7th grade.  She was a die-hard Democrat and loved the Kennedys. I once took her to a rally for Robert Kennedy and I watched her as countenance  change to that of great joy. I remembered a photographer capturing what I witnessed and could not stop taking pictures of her enamored expression.  A picture of President Kennedy was showcased on the main shelf of our living room.

Our Mother was funny (I got my sence of humor from her). We always got the giggles at funerals, especially when going up to the casket. This still happens to my sister and me, I realize how morbidly wrong this is but we can’t help it.

Once when my Dad was in the hospital, my Mother asked me to take her to see him. My father was comatose when we walked in. Suddenly I heard my Mom say, “I want to hit him!” I could not believe my ears but then she said it again. ” I just want to hit him!” I told her, “Go ahead, Mom; no one will know.” We started laughing and of course she never did hit him. As a matter of fact, she taught us to love our father. She never spoke an unkind word about him, and would not allow us to say anything mean-spirited about him. This was a powerful lesson of love for us and I never had ill feeling for my Dad.

Our mother made sure we received our Sacraments as Catholics. She never learned to drive and we lived out in out in the sticks, so going to church on a regular basis was a challenge.We took taxis everywhere, to visit our cousins, to go grocery shopping, and to doctor’s appointment. We were the original Uber family.

Our mother taught us to become strong Christians and emphasized the importance of family. We still are all very close because she made sure we got over our differences by calling us out when we were in the wrong.

My mother never got over the fact that I became a Republican, and that caused a lot of heated debates. I remained steadfast as she stood her ground, using our heritage to try to persuade me. It did not work.

When our mother became dependent on others, my sister Norma took over the role of her caregiver, Norma cared for her lovingly.  A few weeks before she went home to be with the Lord, she had a heart- to-heart talk with me. “I don’t want to die in the house.” “Ok,” I said, and then she added, “I don’t want to die in the hospital either.” I gave her a puzzled look and asked her, “Well where do you want to die?” She answered, “Not in those two places.” My mother died in an ambulance on the way to the hospital.

Our mother buried two of her children: our oldest brother Robert, who died at age 33, and our sister Myra who died five months before my mother. She is survived by son George, his wife Mary,  son Mike,  daughters  Jo and Lynda and Mike Lynda’s husband, and daughter Norma. She has left a legacy of 17 grandchildren and 25 great-grandchildren.

We love you Mom! Happy Mother’s Day!