Popo had a funny side to him too. He was always a jokester. I remember traveling with him on one of the many road-trips he would take us on, sitting in the middle of the front seat between him and Momo, and he would nudge me with his elbow and say, “Wakada, wakada.” Popo used to tell us he was an alien from the Planet Amamangungoo so that was just his alien talk. On other occasions, he would say, “Have I ever told you about my operation?” And to be honest, I really don’t know what that operation was about because I would always say, “Yep, Popo, you’ve told me about it a thousand times.” Popo loved sci-fi and history movies, and he loved to read. He loved the Patriots football team. That was his team. He also loved Notre Dame, and the Sandcrabs, too. And for his sport of baseball, he loved the Red Sox. Oh, how my Popo loved life.
Saying Goodbye to My Grandpa, My Popo
Over the past week, it has felt like we’ve been living smack dab in the middle of a tornado. The world was going on around us, yet there we were standing still watching everything around us move too fast. It didn’t seem real. It still doesn’t, honestly. But small miracles have been happening ever since my Popo’s passing, and I have no doubt that our guardian angel has had his hand in them. I know without a doubt that my Popo is resting in Heaven, a place he was so excited to see. I can only imagine… I know we’ll miss him dearly, but our strength in the days ahead comes from God’s promises.
Popo’s funeral service was one of the most beautiful masses I have ever witnessed. I always knew he was a special person to our community, but being an ordained minister in the Catholic church meant that his funeral mass, his final farewell, wasn’t just for and from his family, but it was also a farewell for and from the church. When he was ordained over twenty years ago, he no longer belonged to his family alone, he belonged to the church’s, too. The bishop who ordained him presided the mass along with several priests, and several deacons from the diocese were in attendance as well. It was humbling to see so many of God’s special servants all in one place saying goodbye with us.
The night before, at his rosary service, I had the honor of speaking on behalf of the grandkids. I’m the oldest, so I had the privilege to talk about my Popo in front of an over-flowing church. Typically, I’m very shy and have extreme anxiety when talking in front of large crowds (I can teach all day in front of teenagers, but get me in front of adults, and I shake like a leaf). But that night, I asked Popo to help me speak words that would honor him and honor God. I had of course typed it up; I even sat at my Popo’s desk, typed on his computer, and spilled my heart out, and I even borrowed some of his own words, too. This is what I shared:
Good evening. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Kristy Moreno; I’m Deacon Al’s oldest grand-daughter, Pam is my mother.
I want to tell you a little bit about our grandpa, our Popo. Popo was more than just a grandpa to his grandkids; he was like a second dad. He helped raise all of us in one way or another, and we all loved and respected him relentlessly. He was our spiritual rock and our life role-model, the epitome of a patriarch. He was always dressed nicely, had a smile on his face, and carried Jesus in his heart. He loved our Momo with all his heart and soul, and he loved his family.
I can still hear his voice loud and clear, “Hi, baby!” When Popo would greet you or talk to you, he made you feel like you were the most important person in the world. He had so much wisdom, and he always had an answer for everything. I know for a lot of you, you have your own memories of him and what a special, kind, generous and selfless man he was. He lived for Christ, and it showed in his every action.
But more than anything, Popo loved God. When I was looking for a little inspiration of what to say tonight, I was looking through his homilies, and I kept coming across the same message. When he would console families who lost someone, he would always talk about our faith. He would say, yes, we’ll be sad and we will mourn, but our faith reminds us that it is the Death and Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ that offers hope that we will dwell in the house of the Lord for eternity. I also read this beautiful quote in one of his homilies: “…death is not putting out the light. It’s rather turning off the light because the dawn has come. Life has changed, not ended.” For people of faith, death leads to life. It is the door to eternal life where Christ waits for us with loving arms and peace for our soul. We believe the words of Jesus, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” Popo would go on to say, “I do not say these words just to comfort you, I say these words because they are TRUE.” Popo believed and so do I.
Popo lived his life being a light to others. His words, deeds, and actions were a reflection of Jesus. Popo was the salt of the earth who enriched this community, and he was a light that guided many people to God. Popo believed that we must let God shine before others, in our deeds, in our worship, in the way we live, so that others may glorify our heavenly Father. I have learned from my Popo’s experiences that “you cannot compel people to come to God. You cannot increase their spiritual life one bit by force or by fear. You can do it only by sharing your life with them, by making them see and feel your goodness, by your love, kindness and sacrifice for them. When you do this, you make God’s love real, you make it visible, you become that salt that Jesus says we all are, adding flavor to the life of those persons and pointing them in the direction of God.” My Popo did just that. My hope and prayer is that his examples enlighten us all to do the same. While I’ll miss my Popo’s beautiful earthly presence, I know he is sitting in his rightful place with Jesus. I can only imagine the joy and peace he has encountered.
Popo Chiqueters, we’ll miss you so much. You taught us so much. But because of you, we know death is not putting out the light. Life has changed, not ended. May we all be the light we are all called to be, just like Popo was. Yes Lord, we believe!
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Thank you so much for all of your kind words, texts, messages, prayers, and actions during this time. It has meant the world to my family, and we are forever grateful. May you all be blessed with God’s goodness.
AlesheaDominique says
Hugs. Your words were beautiful
Kristy says
Thanks for being so kind during this hard time, Aleshea! It means a lot. Xoxo
Liz | Ellie And Addie says
I’m so sorry for your loss Kristy. Your words were beautiful!
Kristy says
Thank you so much, Liz. It means the world!
Alissa Giangregorio says
I can certainly tell that your grandfather was an amazing man. So precious, thanks for sharing the most personal parts of your heart with your readers. Lifting your family up during this difficult time.
Kristy says
Thanks so much for that, Alissa. We appreciate the prayers more than you know. We already miss him tremendously. Xoxo
Tiffany {A Touch of Grace} says
Kristy, what amazing words you shared about your Popo. I know he’s looking down and so proud of you and will be guiding you spiritually throughout the rest of your life, even though he’s not physically with you. Big hugs!
Kristy says
Thanks for that, Tiffany! I hope I made him proud and that I continue to make him proud throughout my life. I can still hear his words, and I know he’ll be there guiding me every step of the way as my special angel. Thanks for the hug! I felt it!
Tawnya Faust says
This is so beautiful. Again I’m so sorry for your loss, I’m so glad that you have your faith to carry you through this hard time though xo
Kristy says
Thanks so much, my beautiful Tawnya! Your support throughout all of this has meant the world to me. Sending love right back to you. Xoxo