Itâs been two weeks and idk, maybe this is a bit âoldâ (idk how long a shelf life eulogies have). But Iâd like to share with you all the speech I delivered on my grandpaâs behalf during his wake.
âGood evening, everyone.
Despite the circumstances that lead us here, itâs an honor to be able to speak on Papiâs behalf today. Even though thereâs only so much words can say, I hope that heâd find my words to be worthy, and that I can properly convey why heâs so special to me and how he impacted my life.
As most of you know, my dad wasnât really in the picture while I was growing up. And when I share that with people the response always ranges from empathy to pity, but the fact is none of them really get it. My circumstances were unique. My father wasnât there, but Papi was, and he more than made up for it.
I spent the first 14 years of my life living with him and my mom and my grams, right down the block from here. His presence wasnât loud but it was always there, threaded into the fabric of my life.
I remember how heâd read the Daily News every day, a publication that got to the heart of current events while still being accessible to those still building their reading skills. Papi and I would share it, and Iâd read anything that caught my attention. In this way he helped spark a desire in me to know more about the world, in an era before news could be sensationalized in 140 characters or less. Iâm a Political Science major now and hope to carry that awareness with me wherever I go, and I credit Papi for that.
I remember how heâd sometimes read that same newspaper while watching baseball on TV. Growing up, I didnât get itâwasnât his attention divided? Wasnât something being wasted? But then smart phones became a thing, and Iâd goof around on mine while watching TV, and, you know⊠maybe the divide between generations isnât so wide after all ;)
But he really loved baseball, and I still canât follow it to save my life, but thatâs okay. I still have fond memories of it. I become so annoyed when anyone talks to me about any sport for more than 5 minutes, except baseball. Thatâs the exception. That was Papiâs favorite.
I remember how he lit up when he talked about his time in the army, and the pride I felt when I talked about that with my friends. I once brought in a picture of him from his army days to my AP Government class in HS, and Iâll never forget how everyoneâeven my hardnosed teacherâtook a moment to study it. Maybe itâs because it told a story thatâs too often erased, that of Latinos serving in the U.S. army before the 1990s. Iâd like to think so.
I always liked how his life story was a counternarrative of sorts: an Afro-Latino who from a well-to-do family, who served in Korea, who could speak not only Spanish and English but conversational German as well, who married a fair-skinned woman at a time when such a thing was reviled, who with her managed to raise two children to adulthood during the crack epidemic, and who still had enough energy to help my mom with me.
And isnât that such a beautiful story? Isnât that the sort of life we should all aspire to? When I think back on Papiâs time on earth, this is what Iâll remember. Iâm so happy to have met him. Iâm so lucky he was my grandpa.â
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