Gilberto, Willy, Padre, Gilbert, Tata

Those of us that gather here in honor of you have known you in so many ways. Gilberto, you are the little boy running barefoot through the fields on your way to school. Willy, you are young and strong and full of life and love with a sparkle in your eye. You are the proud young man with your future ahead of you. Padre you are the hard-working father who was determined to make a future for his family. Gilbert, you are the dreamer, the builder. You are out there hunting for gold. Tata, you are dressed in your favorite boots, hat, and vest, ready for a day at the Casino. You are the doting grandfather looking proudly on the life that you created. Tata Gilbert you are the great-grandfather and great-great grandfather who has touched yet another generation.

Your life was defined by your drive, your charisma, your creativity and your determination. You were bigger than life, you were proud, and you were strong. You were lovable and you were well loved. You were generous and gave freely to others. You accomplished what you set out to do no matter what. You drank from the cup of life with full vigor and a drive to taste every last drop that life had to offer. You were our hero.

On New Years Eve 1913 in the Fort Lowell District you were born Gilberto Lopez Molina to your beloved mother Josefa and your father Francisco whom you loved and adored just as we love and adore you now. You were one of the youngest of fourteen children, seven of whom died in the 1918 influenza. Your brothers and sisters Elias, Maria, Angelita, Francisco, Roberto, and Ernesto called you Willy then, because you were so small and sick. But as you would come to be remembered, you fought back hard and got up fighting. And the name Willy stuck.

I grew up hearing your stories about these early days. Growing up on a ranch first in Fort Lowell and then in Sabino Canyon. You worked hard with your father out in the fields and your love of farming endured through the decades. But then there are also the stories of the fiestas that your mother loved to have with lots of food, music and dancing. That was the first Casa Molina. You loved racing horses and fishing. You loved the very land that sustained you and helped you grow into the man that you became. Those were sweet days that you always held dear to your heart. The Virgin of Guadalupe was the family’s patron saint and blessed you all. You carried that blessing throughout your life.

As a young man you met and married our grandmother Concepcion Leon. I wonder if you knew then that when you began your life together your worlds would weave together into what would become our family. You and grandma were together over 66 years. You had five children together David, Margaret, Gilberto, Elias and Susanna and became Padre, papecito, and later pop.

You worked hard, no matter what you did. In those early days you would work as a ranch hand all day long and then go out in the night to cut wood to have enough for your family. You worked yourself so hard that sometimes you couldn’t even get out of the truck to go inside in the morning. Yet, you pushed yourself and saved $250 so that you could go out and build houses. Later you ran a successful dairy out on Pantano Road, you opened a small market, and you farmed. You were going to succeed no matter what. And in the process you held your head high, you maintained your pride, you kept your self-respect even when doing the dirtiest of jobs. You always kept your dreams and thought about a better way to get the job done. You also always carried with you that not so secret wish to go back home to Mexico, a dream shared by your mother and father.

You started up the restaurant with Mama Ella in 1947. You dug the adobes yourself and built the walls that still stand in your honor today. Nothing stopped you. An obstacle became a challenge to be overcome, which you always found a way around or through. You had a dream and you went after it. Just as you were a businessman and a professional you also still took off to the mountains of Mexico to look for lost gold. You had your feet on the ground but were never afraid to envision what lay beyond the horizon.

As your family grew and grandchildren were born you took great pride in your family. You became Tata, and taught us all self-respect, hard work, and instilled in us the determination to make a life for our families and ourselves. You also taught us to keep that glimmer in our eyes, to envision what could be, to take a risk, to try.

You also taught us to have faith. When I was born and was very ill Tata made a manda to the Virgin of Guadalupe. If I were to survive until my first birthday he would walk with me to Magdalena. And he did it. He was that kind of man and I grew up believing that I owed my life to his prayers and the fulfillment of his promise.

In fulfillment of your dreams you moved to the ranch in Mexico to make a go of it there. You stayed ten years and maybe it took you back to those early days in Sabino Canyon, with the fiestas, the horse racing, the farming and ranching. Images abound: sitting around the pila while a grandchild’s birthday party unfolded with flying bits of colored paper and candy flying through the air; a pig roasting in a pit; playing pool; poker games; sitting around the stone fireplace at night; horse racing out in the fields; kerosene lamps; the old pick-up truck; panning for gold.

In quieter, more serious times, you would whisper to me that you were not afraid to die. You were planning on staying around a long time, but when the time came you would go happily because you would again see your family. You would again feel the open arms of your mother and father. You would see your brothers and sisters again. You would be going home.

As they all shower you with kisses now, as they sing you sweet songs, as they dance, and welcome you, I know that you are at peace. I can almost hear the music and the sound of dancing. I can almost smell the aroma of food cooking on the grill, of fresh chilies and tomatoes roasting. You are with your whole family, with all your brothers and sisters, with your mother and father, with your Tata and Nana. They have all been waiting for you. The circle is complete. You are home.

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