Last Friday was Virginia’s funeral. It was a sad day for sure, but also a pressure packed day for me and the kids! The kids found out that morning they would be doing a reading together. And I was to deliver the eulogy – what an honor.
I thought I’d post the eulogy (not verbatim, obviously) here. And the kids did a wonderful job reading up in front of the entire church.
All in all, it went about as good as it could, I think. I know Adrianne and all of her family were very appreciative of me and the kids… here’s what I said about Virginia, AKA “Memow”…
Hi, what an honor, to be asked to say some words about Virginia today …
I’m Seth, Adrianne’s husband. Evey and Boyd, who did the last reading, are our kids. Great job, kids... Virginia was Adrianne’s grandma, and Virginia was the great-grandma to our kids. Over the last 20 years Virginia was my friend and eventually became my grandma, too.
I’ll do my best to deliver this eulogy for Virginia … because if I mess up, I know I’ll hear about it from her when I see her again someday!
Virginia Leanos Romero was born May 21, 1926 in Rossville, Kansas. She was reunited with the love of her life, her hero, Ramon Sr., a World War II veteran, last Friday January 6. She was 96. She leaves behind a huge family as well as a massive community of people who were greatly influenced by her and Ramon.
She married Ramon Sr. on May 16, 1946. The courtship went something like this: Ramon would drive by Virginia and her friend as they walked, and he would whistle at them (pshooo-pshooo!) Virginia was bilingual but she also spoke a third language, where she would say a word and you knew by the way she said the word … that it wasn’t a compliment. In this case Virginia would describe her friend as “petite” and then make this motion with her hands (curvy.) Finally, the petite (curvy) girl decided she’d walk over to the young man in the truck. When she got there he looked at her and said, “No, I wasn’t whistling at you. I was whistling at her.”
Virginia and Ramon were soon married and their romance was profound. All their lives they danced together, in the early years at a bar in Topeka called Meadow Acres. At their 60th wedding anniversary at the train depot, Virginia was cleaning plates off a table. Ramon hobbled over on two bad knees. There was no music but he put his hands on her hips and… they danced.
I keep a Vicente Fernandez CD in my jukebox because Virginia likes it. OK, I like Vicente too. Whenever Virginia was over at our place I’d played her some Vicente. This last time I looked over and saw her wiping away tears. I thought, uh-oh, we’ve been sipping some tequila and I just took it too far, now I made her sad. I walked over to her and asked her if she was OK. She said she loved the music I was playing because it reminded her of her Ramon. They were tears of sadness but also tears of joy. Then she told me, “Seth, I want to have my next birthday party over here.”
Virginia was very patriotic. She was active in the Democratic party and worked as a poll worker at New York School every presidential election starting with Dwight Eisenhower in 1956. OK, she missed one – for heart surgery. Think of how many people she knew, simply because she saw them every election day.
She was appointed to the Kansas State Cosmetology Board by Gov. Robert Docking Jr. The Lawrence Journal-World interviewed Virginia a few times in recent years. They asked her who favorite president was, she said John F. Kennedy, because he was just a friendly president, just trying to do good for his country…
Ramon Jr. describes Virginia as the cornerstone, the pillar of the family. Tony remembers how every time him, Jose, Ricardo and Fidel would get in trouble… Rick was with them but yet somehow, he’d be standing across the street when trouble went down with their mom. But then the next day when they went out the door, Virginia would always shout at Rick, “take Tony with you!”
Mike told me when he was a kid, he’d also go out and find trouble. Whenever he thought he was getting away with it, he’d come home and Virginia would ask him, ‘what have you been into today?’ He’d say ‘nothing.’ But somehow, she knew. He didn’t realize how many people Virginia knew in the community, and they all were helping Virginia keep an eye on her kids… she had eyes everywhere.
…. there was no pepper that was too hot for Virginia!
Lawrence, Kan., 1990. Romero’s Liquor Store had the coldest beer in Lawrence. It also had the youngest cashiers in Lawrence and an old man co-owner who couldn’t see the numbers on an ID. The Skip-Bo games among the grandkids were epic. It’s where they all learned Yahtzee and how to play cards. I won’t name names but there was one grandkid who was potty trained at the liquor store, and a traumatic accident with the toilet seat set that kid behind a few months. The Young and the Restless was on everyday and they’d keep an eye on it, but when As the World Turns came on, everyone got quiet and watched. …This place sounds like my kind of liquor store.
Lupe recalled a story about the last time Maggie the cat was allowed in the house. Virginia had purchased a tea set, and the centerpiece was this beautiful teapot. Maggie jumped up on the doily and that pulled the teapot off the hutch and it shattered on the ground. Virginia went after Maggie and she’s pretty sure the only thing that saved Maggie’s life was when Ramon opened the door at the last second. Maggie got away but she was never allowed in the house again.
Yet Virginia fed and cared for this cat for years… legend has it the cat lived to be 25 years old or so. I guess at some point it developed a hunchback of some sort, but it never went hungry or thirsty. Just like the cats at the farm right now. We don’t know when she grew this soft spot for the cats, but she cared for all her animals…
I don’t know if Maggie made it through the pearly gates, but if she did, my guess is she still won’t make it through Virginia’s front door.
If your timing was just right, you’d walk into Virginia’s house when she was making tortillas. A fresh tortilla, when you can melt the butter on it? Or if you did some work and helped out with some mowing, or working at the farm, you’d get a knock on the door the next day. Virginia would hand you a tray of enchiladas. I was told that food was Virginia’s “currency of love.” And that currency is better than money, let me tell you.
By show of hands, how many women here had their ears pierced by Virginia?
Judy talked to me about how she taught the women in her life to be strong. She had principals. She was courageous. And can I say it, she was TOUGH. Virginia didn’t take no mess.
Rosalina Shoemaker told me that she still remembers her first day of kindergarten. Virginia looked at her and said, “Rosalina, someone is going to try to call your Rosie, or Rosa … your name is ROSALINA. And you don’t let anyone tell you what your name is.” John told me, to this day Rosalina gets mad when someone shortens her name, or calls her by a nickname … which made for an awkward moment when we looked over and saw that Lupe has her saved in her phone under a nickname…
I asked Elvira if she could talk to me about her tia, and she told me, “Seth, if I’m going to talk about Tia, I’m going to need to sit down…”
1993, Los Angeles. Elvira is divorced with a 9-year-old and she has barely any money, barely making it. Her and Virginia were communicating via mail. Elvira told her, “Tia, I think I’d like to come see if I can make it in Kansas.”
Virginia called her and told her, get out here to Kansas. You don’t need money. We’ll give you two years to get on your feet.
15 months later Elvira had enough money to move her and her daughter into their own place. I think about the life Elvira has made her in Lawrence, and her daycare … she took care of our kids when they were little, and think of the countless other children she’s helped raise. And Virginia, when she was able, would come out and help. She’d sit and bottle-feed a baby. When the baby was done, she’d ask, “Who’s next?”
That one act of kindness… think of the number of people it affected.
As much as she cared for the women in her life, think of the way she loved her boys. This church is full of Mexicans, you know how Mexican women care for their boys. Oh, did she dote on her boys. Whenever we’d walk into the farm, she’d look right at Boyd and say, “Ohhh, que guapo!” Pierce was her ‘Macho Man.’ She flew all the way out to Pacifica, California, to hold Hunter when he was only six months old.
She used to tell me I looked like my mom. I don’t think I look like my mom. I think this was her way of telling me that she remembered my mom, and she loved my mom…
Judy, Ramon Jr., Tony, Kyoko, Lupe, Rod, Mike… Adrianne, Andrew, Christina, Tony Jr., Cassandra, Rosalina, Brent, Jason, Jackie… Great-grandchildren, Evey and Boyd, Dexter, Sylvia and my sweet goddaughter Lydia Ixchel (I see you hiding Lydia!)… Vale, Brynn and Pierce, Hunter… foster brother Johnny Jimenez and foster sister Mary Jimenez Knowles, and the many nieces and nephews in Kansas and Washington … I am so sorry for your loss.
Virginia is no longer here, but she will always be here (touch heart.) Kiddos, you had a great-grandma that you’ll remember, that’s awesome. I was driving with Boyd the other day and I asked him, ‘Do you believe in Heaven?’ and he said, ‘Yeah, Dad, I do.’ I told him, that’s awesome because I do too… and you will always have Memow looking down on you from Heaven.
Last night at The Rosary, Adrianne said her goodbye to Memow. She was distraught. I didn’t have the words. And then Rod put his hand on her shoulder and said, “Adrianne, whenever I get sad about Mom … I think about her being back with Pops, and I feel better.”
Do me a favor, after we go our separate ways today, I want you to put on some Vicente Fernandez. It’s easy these days, you don’t need a jukebox. You just need Spotify, or Amazon Music, or whatever. Put on some Vicente and close your eyes. I think you’ll see Virginia dancing with Ramon.
