Before I begin, I want to thank all of the friends and
family who came to pay respect for our mother.
So where do I begin.
Do I start with the disease that took her life? That for the last 12+ years was responsible
for stealing every bit of her soul, her identity, her inner beauty? The disease
that robbed her of her ability to fully enjoy her satisfaction of finally
owning a house that she so desperately wanted.
Enjoying the laughter and simple beauty of her grandchildren, great
grandchildren and of course her children.
The disease that destroyed her humility and ended up putting her in a
position that she would have absolutely been distraught about and ashamed of.
No. Let me start at the beginning. Angela Gonzalez Nazario,
was born in 1942. The daughter of Valentin Gonzalez and Julia Nazario. Her mother died when she was 6 years
old. Her father, distraught and unable
to deal with incredible loss, gave away the children to be cared for by family
and friends. Each of the four, in
separate homes, growing up for the next 5 years, until Valentin was able to
bring them back together. Angela, at
the age of 11, responsible for the chores of being a homemaker, became the
mother she did not know, to her brothers.
Learning to cook at that early age while her father and brothers worked
in the fields.
10 years later, she married the love her life, Rafael
Heredia Pagan. 6 years her elder, he saw
her grow up as a neighbor. Moving to NJ
in 1964, to begin a new life, not speaking the language, knowing the customs,
dealing with the harsh winters or really knowing anybody except for the
immediate family, and a select number of friends who also made the move there.
As a teenager, I remember our apartment always full of kids,
that mom would take care of, just so that we had extra income coming in. At times, there would be 3-4 of them, on top
of the 4 of us. She earned the trust of
every family that needed a sitter and the love of all of those who she took
care of. She was Mama, or TiTi to
dozens, if not more, kids that to this day still talk about her and the impact
she had on their lives. Her love for
kids was unmatched. It was hard work and
when the parents came to pick them up, I remember the look of exhaustion that
would appear and then the deep sigh of relief that the job for the day was
done. While they were there though, she
did not let anybody know how hard it was to do this. Having two sons of my own, I don’t know how
she did it, all of these years with all of these kids. She was practically a mother to everybody in
the town. For someone who lost her
mother at such a young age, she became the best mother anybody could have.
Never raising her voice, providing comfort when we needed
it, as sweet as can be. An Angel sent
down from heaven like her name implies.
This awful disease that she dealt with emphasizes your
personality. With mom, her love for kids
and family grew even stronger. As the
disease progressed, she would tell us that she saw a little girl in the house
and why could we not see her. She would wave and talk to the little girl that
was completely real in her mind.
The way her grandkids and now great grandkids showed their
love for her, is a sight to be seen. The
pure love from a child who can see they were getting unconditional love in
return. Her life was her family and her greatest
joy in this world was being a mother.
Oh and was she great.
I remember the simple things like a home baked cake for every one of the
birthdays I had growing up. Looking
back, what I never realized, was that the cake had only my name it even though
we share birthdays. After she retired
and moved down in 2005, I made it a point to show up at her house with a cake,
with both of our names on it so we can celebrate it together.
Mom put everybody first, before her own
needs.
The common phrase in a marriage vow “to
have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer, for
poorer, in sickness and in health; to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us
do part”. Mom’s marriage was the epitome of that phrase. Mom struggled with
poverty as a child and to be honest, lived a very simple life throughout most
of her life deserving of so much more.
She never went on a vacation, except for the trip to Puerto
Rico to visit Dad’s family that we took every 5-6 years. Mom did not get to live the life we live
today going to restaurants, visiting different cities, or taking a week to go
to the beach.
Today we would be bored out of our minds, year after year
repeating the same pattern with nothing else to look forward to. Yet with mom, you would never see the
unhappiness in her life. She always had
a smile, even if it was for the simple things we did. I don’t ever remember mom
wallowing in her sorrows, or even being too sick to get out of bed to do what
she had to do.
Mom and dad had enough “to get by”. But what she did not have in money, was more
than made up for, with the richness of love and family.
Eventually she did get that house, that
she had always asked me to buy her when I was growing up. But she and dad did that all by themselves upon
retirement. She worked in the evenings, as a store clerk,
saving up everything she earned, and buying tons stuff for the dream home she
was going to get when she retired.
Within a year of getting that house, we started to see signs of her
forgetting things and eventually she even forgot it was her house. I had never seen mom more happy than when she
moved into her “casita”. Only to have
that happiness robbed when she forgot it was hers. During one of her episodes, she complained
and cried that she wanted to go home, even though she was in the home that she had
always dreamed about. We had to take walks
with her outside, around the block, so that we can end up back at “her house.”
It was because of mom that we would go to church every
Sunday. As she was advancing in her late stages of Alzheimer’s, I remember
asking her, after she had already forgotten who I was, if she believed in God,
and her answer was an emphatic “Oh Yes”.
But she was not able to say more than that. She once saw herself in a video my sister
recorded and she made the sign of the cross and blew a kiss at herself. Her faith was unwavering.
So was her love for dad.
Growing up, I could not really see or witness the love for each
other. I knew they loved each other but
besides a tap kiss on the lips, they were not ones to show affection to each
other. However, after their retirement,
and us seeing them almost every day over the past 14 years since they moved
down, it was so evident. Especially when
dad went into caregiver mode. Holding
hands as they walked, the constant kissing or even the attempt by dad to get a
kiss when mom was no longer giving them.
The caress of the hair, the constant nagging from dad about how we were
not doing a good job taking care of her was unbearable at times. But she was the love of his life and he was
hers. I remember the day that I mom
forgot who I was. I walked in to their house on Father’s day and everybody was
outside in the back of the house for the barbeque and mom was hovering around
the kitchen/breakfast area. I greeted
her with my usual “Hello Lady”, and immediately saw her back up, unsure of who
I was. It had already happened to my
sisters and brother in laws and I knew it was just a matter of time it would
happen to me, though I prayed it would not.
I leaned against the couch and said “You know I love you
right?” Very simply, and soft spoken.
She continued to look at me, then said “Yes, but my husband
is right there.” As she pointed to the backyard.
While I will miss taking care of her every Saturday, crying
while listening to the old school music that she and dad grew up with,
especially the ones that spoke about how much love they had for each other, I
am at peace that she is no longer suffering through this dreadful disease that
took away her identify and her happiness but in the end, gave us the
opportunity to come together as a family, to give back just a portion of the
love and care she gave to us.
My wife Luisa, once shared something with us that read:
“There is much pain to
endure when watching a loved one suffer with Alzheimer’s Disease. There is the pain of perpetual grief. There is the raw wound of continual
loss. There is the struggle to preserve
dignity and the desire to respect the present and cling to the past.
However, in the midst
of the heartache there is a small glimmer of light that exists to remind us of
the things that Alzheimer’s can’t take away…the warmth of a touch, the
importance of smiles and laughter, and the knowledge of what it truly means to
experience unconditional love and acceptance.”
That was exactly what we experienced with mom. Unconditional love in its truest form in the
midst of an indescribable pain that was so undeserving.
We have been grieving for 12 years since first finding out
about her disease but the disease did not define who mom was. It helped us see her true inner beauty.
Until we meet again my birthday buddy, my beautiful mother,
my dear Angelita.
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Here is the Memorial video we did for her as well.
My sisters (Evelyn and Carmen) and wife (Luisa) also eulogized mom today. Here are all of the Eulogies.
