Eulogy

dear Lands, near Afton, New York 1984

I remember the phone call.  I was in the dorm at UNI.  Yellow walls in the hallway on the first floor.  Such an ugly color in the darkness of an autumn evening.  My grandmother had passed away.  This was 1985. 

She was my father's mother.  And as such I did not get to spend much time with her for she lived in New York.  Dad choose to move away from NYC shortly after graduating from high school.  In fact, all but one of his siblings fled the Empire State. 

They came to visit us a few times.  We went there a handful of times.  My sister and I spent a week there, at Dear Lands, my grandparents property in upstate New York.  Yes, DEAR not DEER, it was named so out of her love for those 50 acres.  But it was the effort of my parents to visit them it seemed.  Sometimes by plane, once by train but I remember long journeys by car.  My first time behind the wheel on a freeway was en route to The City.  Rumor had it that my grandfather did all the flying he wanted to do during WWII.  Now knowing all the blood and guts littered all over C-47s and all the airmen that he knew that never made it home from Europe, I don't blame him for remaining terrestrial bound.  I think I last saw her in 1984.

So I never got to know her like I would have if we were closer geographically.  That's the real shame.  It seems to me that now that I am much older those that I'd to talk to have been dust for decades.  I think she would get a kick out of her great grandchildren.  I know they would love her as I did.

Friday I was at my mother's house, my family home in Ottumwa.  I found a notebook with a hand written eulogy for my grandmother.  She was only 60 years old at the time of her death.  Young, to damn young.

I was unable to attend her funeral.  After my grandfather moved to Ottumwa I had no reason ever to travel that way to visit her grave.  Dad went out alone to take charge and see to it that everything was in order.  The only thing I remember was how he related that his sister wanted to bring her cat into the house and he said no.  "Cats have fur for a reason, it stays in your car."  That was Dad.  He also is the purported author of the eulogy that I will present.  Full of cliches and cheesey at times but heart felt.  I never have known my father to be a writer.  This must have been a challenge.  Then again he was an avid reader which helps one write.

To know Dorothy, you knew her smile.  She was a very loving wife, and mother in sense of the word.  Always striving to bring more joy and happiness into her home.

If you drive up Tracy Road  today, and come to the first house on the right, you'll be greeted by a large jack-o-lantern, with the largest of smiles.  One knows of course, this has to be the home of Dorothy Guevara.

Rarely if ever did she not have a friendly smile on her face, and a personality full of good cheer to go along with the smile.

She was the loving wife, mother and friend, that if The Lord sent her lemons in short order she would turn them into lemonade.

If one is assigned a mission in life, Dorothy's was to bring more love and joy into this world.

Not only will she be greatly missed by her husband Robert, and her family, but by all those who she touched with her smile and love.

I know Dorothy is up in heaven at this very moment preparing a joyful loving welcome for all.

Above used by Rev Robert Heinle during Dorothy's service at Osterhoudt Funeral Home on Monday October 28th, 1985, 2 pm

Written by Bob W Guevara

Senior Bunny

Easter is upon us once again.  Soon the first Sunday after the new moon after the Spring Equinox will be here.  As a child I look forward to this day.  If we do anything in Iowa we certainly make holidays about children.

The Easter of my childhood involved 1 hour at church, a large family meal with my mother's family and 2 to 3 sets of Easter baskets.  But my favorite thing about Easter was the large chocolate rabbit that my great grandmother Angela would send me from New York.  Senior Bunny.

My paternal grandfather's family left Cuba when he was 5 and they wound up in NYC.  Too bad, I was told they were aiming for Canada.  Angela never lost the accent.Although my sister and I were her 2nd and 3rd great grandchildren and the fact that we were born and raised half a continent away, perhaps only seeing each other maybe a half dozen times, we'd get a package around every Easter with the fabled chocolate bunny.  Not just any chocolate but high quality stuff from NYC.  All other bunnies never tasted quite as good.  This ended maybe about 1982.  It was a good run and every Easter I miss it.

Easter today is a busy holiday for me.  Since September I have been part of the RCIA team helping anywhere from 10 to 21 people come into full communion with the Catholic Church.  Easter Vigil on Saturday is D-Day.  It starts out in the morning with breakfast and practice at the church.  I've learned my lesson about showing up hung over.  No fun.  Around noon we go our separate ways until about 7pm, Easter Vigil.

Easter Vigil is perhaps the longest Catholic liturgical service.  The church is dark and then they light the Easter candle and from that candle everyone lights their candles.  I've seen people accidentally set fire to the hair of the person in front of them.  Then the readings, up to 6 or more, Old Testament through the Gospel.  People are baptised.  Some are confirmed.  Some receive their first Eucharist.  It ends about 10 pm.

Sometimes I have the distinct honor of being the lector on Easter Sunday proper.  Once again, I will do the readings on Sunday.

Then we focus on the family.  In years past we would load everyone up and travel to Ottumwa.  Most often we would stay at my parents' house.  My kids would have a variety of Easter baskets waiting for them.  Easter egg hunts were common.  In recent years the dinner and basket presentation would be at our home or my sister's.  but Being the only one with children I prefer to establish our own traditions.  it won't be long until the older children leave the nest.  Besides, it makes little sense for the 7 of us to travel across town when less people can come over here.  This year my non-nuclear family is one person less.  Possibly there will be at max two people that will be able to come over.  I merely want a meal and have some of the weekend to myself.  I have no desire to travel across or out of town.  Dora is the only one that is young enough to get a basket.  Perhaps I will dye eggs with her Friday night.

Now a week later,  my mother is still in town.  We had a meal here but Quin had to work.  Mom would later remark to him that she'd rather have had ham.  Too bad.  I can do more with left over pork than I can do with ham.  Less sodium anyway.  One can always fix ham.  Pork loins are less common.  Besides, I bought it from one of the few remaining family owned meat counters in the nation.