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Well - I never imagined I would be in this position today, at this point in my life, of having to say my final goodbye to our beloved son Fredy.
As much hell-raising as I have done in my own lifetime, honestly - the thought never entered my mind that it wouldn't be Fredy giving a eulogy for me some day instead.
I've heard it said that parents are not supposed to outlive their children. In a perfect world, I suppose that would be the way things work. But, as it is, we don't live in a perfect world and the fact of the matter is that sometimes bad things happen when you least expect them. The sudden loss of our dear Fredy has shocked and devastated us and our pain is more profound than I can describe.
My Father and Mom and my Sister and her Husband are here today with us - they flew in from my birth state of Minnesota - to pay their respects to Fredy and support our families through this difficult process. I am so heartened by their presence and I cannot thank them enough for being here for us at this trying time. My Dad and my Mom Gloria, unfortunately, know all too well the pain and suffering of having to bury a child. 15 years ago my brother David was killed in an accident at a young age. Like Fredy, my brother David left a young wife and children behind and a lot of broken hearts of many loved ones. These are the kind of broken hearts that never truly heal completely --- but with the love and support of family and friends, the pain does lessen over time I understand. While that may be true, I am certain it will be a long time before our pain of losing Fredy begins to fade, because that is how powerful the essence of his spirit and love is in all of our hearts.
So -- truly -- it is quite obvious that there is plenty of proof that we do live in an imperfect, and yes, sometimes seemingly cruel world. Knowing that, I think it would do all of us good to maybe occasionally take a few moments out of our busy lives and reflect upon that reality. I think that if we do, perhaps we can transform that reflection in to personal actions and deeds which enhance the quality of life of not only our own lives, but of those all around us as well.
Now some personal words about Fredy:
As some of you may or may not know, Fredy is not my biological son. When I married my wife Nelly nearly 24 years ago, I inherited an instant family of four spanish speaking only rugrats, which, as you can imagine, made for some interesting early times considering that the only spanish words I knew at the time were “taco” and “burrito”. Those four rugrats were Fredy, his older Sisters Ana and Linda and his younger brother Javier and they were all still living in their birth country of El Salvador at the time I married their mother. I vowed to Nelly when I asked her to marry me that I would accept her children in to my heart and help her raise them as if they were my own biological children. I remember working a lot of extra overtime at work for several months in order to make enough money so that we could pay an immigration attorney to do all of the necessary legal paperwork to bring the kids up from El Salvador to be with us permanently. Once all of the immigration paperwork was completed, the day then came where we were able to send for the kids to come to the U.S. and complete the goal we set out to do -- which was to make us a family - all of us together.
I remember going to the airport with Nelly the day the kids flew in from El Salvador - and we waited for what seemed like an eternity for them to clear immigration. Finally all four came walking up the ramp from customs clearance area. I recognized them right away from pictures I had seen of them. They saw their mother and instantly sprinted towards her yipping with glee, crying and hugged her. I just kind of stood off to the side and allowed them that brief moment of privacy so that they could reconnect with their mother whom they had not seen for nearly 2 years. After a few minutes and at some point, while the other 3 kids were still clinging to and hugging Nelly, the little dark-skinned rugrat, who I recognized from photos as Fredy, stepped away from his mother and turned toward me. He tugged on my pant leg and looked up at my face -- and then with a big, goofy, toothless grin and sparkling eyes he said to me "hola papi!" as if he had always known me as his father and we had simply been separated for awhile and were reunited. He then gave me a big hug, and with that lovable grin on his face took my hand in his. We walked out of the airport that night and went home as a family at long last.
Raising Fredy and his brother and sisters through adulthood was an experience that ----well----if I had around 6 or 7 hours, I could probably tell you a thousand stories - and a great many of them would revolve around Fredy and his antics. Therefore I think I will allow Fredy's brother and sisters to handle that part, for I am sure that they have an entirely different perspective of most of those events from my own, being that I was just the scatter-brained dad attempting to control and teach four nutty and unruly Salvadoran rugrats about life here in these United States.
As it is - I would like to focus the remaining part of my thoughts about Fredy about the way I saw him living his life these past dozen years.
I saw him graduate from Venice High School, I saw him take some college classes and I saw him get his very first job. I saw him fall in love with and marry his beautiful wife Kimberly. I saw him become a proud father of two precious little girls - Jasmine and Lorelei. I saw him being a responsible working and dedicated family man and I saw him living his life with joyful abandonment.
Speaking of Fredy's youngest little girl Lorelei, here is an example of how Fredy demonstrated his love and his respect for me personally. When Kimberly was still pregnant with Lorelei and she and Fredy were considering names for the baby, Fredy, as a Christmas present to me, gave me the honor of naming his as yet to be born daughter. I was completely surprised and floored by such a gesture. I was practically speechless. I'm not one for normally displaying my emotions in front of others, and I didn't that day when Fredy gave me that wonderful gift, so I gratefully accepted it and we moved on. But I will honestly tell you now-- I cried like a baby later that evening in a moment of solitude by myself - because I knew that by Fredy wanting to have me name his daughter - it was a gift from his heart to me - and with a gift like that there is no doubt about the depth and the strength of the love that accompanies it. That is how loving and thoughtful Fredy could be - and was.
Another example was when Fredy helped organize a Father's Day gift to me a few years back where he got together with his brother and sisters and they pooled their money and purchased for me this package deal where I got to drive a real NASCAR race car for 10 laps around California Speedway in Fontana. Fredy knew I liked watching NASCAR racing and I'm sure he probably heard me just say in passing one day that I thought it would be cool to drive one of those cars. And so off to the races we went - the whole family was there. I remember after finishing my 10 lap run around the track and pulling in to the pits - I exited the car and pulled my helmet off and looked over in the gallery where the whole family was sitting - and there was Fredy with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face - he knew that I had just had one hell of a blast driving that race car and I could tell that it made him happy to see me so happy. But truly - the fact that Fredy would remember me making an off-hand comment about wondering what it would be like to drive a NASCAR race-car and then working behind the scenes with his siblings to make that little dream of mine come true, was just another in the many ways he had of showing his love for me.
One final story I would like to tell you about is in reference to sports also. Most of you know Fredy was a hardcore L.A. Kings hockey fan and his dream of seeing them win the Stanley Cup Championship this year finally came true. You should have seen him as the final seconds ticked off and the Kings became champs – he had that same goofy grin and sparkle in his eyes that I remember when I first saw him coming off the plane from El Salvador as a little kid – it was just pure delight. Even though the Kings were Fredy's primary pro sports passion - he was also a big St. Louis Rams fan in NFL football. Now - I myself, having been born in and lived most of my early life in Minnesota, am a die-hard Minnesota Vikings fan (and a long time suffering fan at that). So whenever Fredy came over to my house to watch the Vikings play on TV, some times he would occasionally have a Vikings shirt or hat on, and if he didn't he would just have a plain old t-shirt with nothing on it -- as he knew well enough not to enter in to my domain wearing any other team's colors, even those of his team - the Rams. It was a sign of respect he had for me -- either that or he knew I would kick his ass if he showed up in my home, drank my beer, ate my T-Bone steaks and didn't show some support for my Vikings. As it turned out we finally got the opportunity to actually attend an NFL game this past season. It was opening day of the regular season – and wouldn't you know it - the Vikings were playing the Chargers in San Diego. There were six of us who went to that game- myself, Fredy, Ana, Linda, Javier and my grandson little Tony. I was so excited to see my Vikings play in person - so I dressed up in full Vikings regalia including a Vikings practice squad shirt, a Vikings horned helmet and painted my whole face Vikings purple and yellow. We tailgated out in the parking lot a couple of hours before the game – and Fredy barbequed for us of course. Since I had my face painting kit along with me, I asked Fredy if he wanted to get painted up in Vikings colors too. At first he declined, but when I told him that I was going to go strolling around the parking lot strutting my Vikings colors in front of the Chargers fans, Fredy immediately changed his mind -- and so we painted him up -- we spray painted his hair and goatee Vikings purple and his eyebrows and mustache yellow. He looked like a spastic version of a 1970's punk rocker. Anyhow, after we got him all painted, I asked him why he changed his mind about it and asked if it was because he was finally changing his team loyalty from the Rams to the Vikings - he looked at me and with that stupid grin and said to me - "nah, I just figured since you're likely going to get your ass kicked by these Chargers fans for going into their territory dressed up like a Viking, I figured I might as well be there getting my ass kicked too right along with ya you crazy bastard." And we laughed about it -- yet sure enough – off we went strutting in to the belly of the Chargers beast showing our Vikings colors. We even convinced the rest of our crew to join us, and we walked up and down all those parking aisles full of Chargers fans – and thankfully we didn't get our asses kicked that day. And even though the Vikings ended up losing the game , it was one of the most fun days of my life and Fredy was one of the main reasons for it being so much fun.
So - in closing - while I have only shared a few stories of Fredy's love and kindness toward me personally, I know for absolute certain that he was the same way with all of his family and his friends as well. He was just a sweet, caring, giving and loving big 'ol Teddy Bear of a guy. He was a wonderful son, a loving husband and father, a great brother and a caring friend – the type of friend who would give you the shirt off his back and who you could count on in time of need. I am so going to miss you Fredy. I love you and I am so proud to call you my son. We'll meet up some day in the next world. We'll sit down and have a few beers, some carne asada and maybe watch a football game together -- preferably a game in which the Vikings are kicking the asses of those Rams you love so much.
LOVE YOU FOREVER SON!
Dad.
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