Thank you so much for all of your kind words, thoughts and prayers for me and my family. On September 16, 2010 at 11:04 p.m. William Louis Terra, my maternal grandfather passed away to be with his beloved wife, Betty, his daughter, Martha and a slew of other loved family members, who have since passed. Papa Bill was born into a traditional Protuguese family in Morro Bay, CA on July 3, 1924.
On Friday, September 24, 2010 our family laid my grandfather to rest in San Luis Obispo, CA. It was a lovely, traditional Catholic Funeral Mass. The funeral mass was held at the Mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa. I have always thought that the Mission in San Luis Obispo was so pretty and simple. It's ornate, but in really simple, peasant way My grandfather would have been happy to have seen all his family gathered together for Mass. Oddly, only the older generation is Catholic the rest of us are Protestant. The Mother Superior asked me if I was Catholic before I did the scripture reading, when I said, "no," I could see the "tisk, tisk" in her eyes. It actually made me chuckle (wink, wink).
When the funeral started hubs had to take Owen out of the sancuary. He was talking so much that we knew there was no way he was going to make it through mass. Jettson sat through the whole mass. I was very proud of him. When my grandfather was brought in (it was a closed casket, thank goodness...I had no idea how I was going to explain that one to Jett...I was having a hard enough time explaining mass, death and creamation! or in Jett's words "mom, is grandpa Bill going to get "fired?") Jettson tapped me and said in a whisper "mom, my heart is hurting." At which point I lost it. My heart was broken. In the Book of John, John describes Jesus at a funeral, he wrote that, "He wept" along with the other mourners. For some reason that always gives me peace. We are human and our heart aches when someone passes, even if they lived a long, good life. When Jettson told me his "heart hurt" I wanted to take that pain away. It was a mirror for me, I believe that is exactly how God feels for me.
It was a lovely day. I know that might sound strange to some of you, a funeral and burial being lovely. However, it was more of a celebration of Papa Bill's life. He lived a long, simple and honest life. His funeral was a reflection of the life he lived.
My grandparents were everything to me. They were more like my parents, really. My own parents were so young when they had me that they had no idea how to parent. By the time I came along into my grandparents lives they had already made mistakes as parents and learned from them that, they were in more ways ready to parent their grandchilren. I was the firstborn of my mother, Martha Terra and firstborn granddaughter, which made for a special bond between my grandfather and I. I will always remember the smell of cigars and bbq on his clothes. It was actually a comforting smell. I can smell now as I write. He was a man of few words, so when he said "I love you" you knew he meant it. All he ever wanted out of life was for his family, "his people" to be happy and secure. He was a simple guy. Both my grandparents grew up in an age when you did the hard stuff, made the hard decisions and keep at them. You worked hard, your family was first and you were loyal to them.
On Friday, September 24, 2010 our family laid my grandfather to rest in San Luis Obispo, CA. It was a lovely, traditional Catholic Funeral Mass. The funeral mass was held at the Mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa. I have always thought that the Mission in San Luis Obispo was so pretty and simple. It's ornate, but in really simple, peasant way My grandfather would have been happy to have seen all his family gathered together for Mass. Oddly, only the older generation is Catholic the rest of us are Protestant. The Mother Superior asked me if I was Catholic before I did the scripture reading, when I said, "no," I could see the "tisk, tisk" in her eyes. It actually made me chuckle (wink, wink).
When the funeral started hubs had to take Owen out of the sancuary. He was talking so much that we knew there was no way he was going to make it through mass. Jettson sat through the whole mass. I was very proud of him. When my grandfather was brought in (it was a closed casket, thank goodness...I had no idea how I was going to explain that one to Jett...I was having a hard enough time explaining mass, death and creamation! or in Jett's words "mom, is grandpa Bill going to get "fired?") Jettson tapped me and said in a whisper "mom, my heart is hurting." At which point I lost it. My heart was broken. In the Book of John, John describes Jesus at a funeral, he wrote that, "He wept" along with the other mourners. For some reason that always gives me peace. We are human and our heart aches when someone passes, even if they lived a long, good life. When Jettson told me his "heart hurt" I wanted to take that pain away. It was a mirror for me, I believe that is exactly how God feels for me.
It was a lovely day. I know that might sound strange to some of you, a funeral and burial being lovely. However, it was more of a celebration of Papa Bill's life. He lived a long, simple and honest life. His funeral was a reflection of the life he lived.
My grandparents were everything to me. They were more like my parents, really. My own parents were so young when they had me that they had no idea how to parent. By the time I came along into my grandparents lives they had already made mistakes as parents and learned from them that, they were in more ways ready to parent their grandchilren. I was the firstborn of my mother, Martha Terra and firstborn granddaughter, which made for a special bond between my grandfather and I. I will always remember the smell of cigars and bbq on his clothes. It was actually a comforting smell. I can smell now as I write. He was a man of few words, so when he said "I love you" you knew he meant it. All he ever wanted out of life was for his family, "his people" to be happy and secure. He was a simple guy. Both my grandparents grew up in an age when you did the hard stuff, made the hard decisions and keep at them. You worked hard, your family was first and you were loyal to them.
I can't write that they always did the right thing or that they were the best parents, but they did the best they could with the knowledge they were given. They were raised during the depression era, had little money or education. They knew how to work and save. Those are traits that they passed onto their children and their grandchildren. A legacy of hard work, making tough choices and being loyal.
A generation has passed. I'm grateful to have been part of their lives. I have the best of both of William and Betty in me. I'm forever grateful to them for always being there not only for me, but for our whole family. They always made each of us feel that we were #1 in their lives, and we were. Papa's family "his people" (papa always said that he loved "his people" in reference to his family) meant the world to him, and he meant the world to us. They both did.
William Louis Terra July 3, 1924 - September 16, 2010
Betty May Terra May 11, 1924- December 6, 2007
1 comment:
Christy so glad you could get this down on paper. So beautiful!
A funeral can be beautiful as those who love that one most gather together, the love is thick....
I loved what you said about Jesus weeping with mourners at a funeral. How he knows your heart and wants to take away the pain like you wanted to for Jettson. That is a precious analogy. How precious that little boy could express himself like he did too.
I could imagine the whole setting in a mass with all of you together. I am sure it was lovely.
I could just see the wink wink coming from you as you read the scripture! Yeah, honoring the Lord, honoring your beloved grandpa. I love that Mother Superior had to let that happen. Bet grandpa was proud and Jesus was smiling.
It is great what you wrote about his life, sounds a good bit like my dad. Loved his people, worked hard, was loyal and you knew he loved you!!
I hope this laying to rest in the lovely setting that you had, brought some peace to your heart although the memories and the missing will ever linger. What a legacy you have from a precious man!
Love to you and to your family Christy. Patricia Varga
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