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