Last week we lost a great man, my grandfather Pete Torres. I was honored by my father, aunts and uncles to be asked to deliver the eulogy after his rosary this past Tuesday. I thought I would share it here.
The home he created on Medina Street was one where the door was always open. Welcoming to all who entered. He always made people welcome there. And everyone knew it. I know this room is full of family and friends who came over for countless parties and family gatherings. His family, his children, grand children and great grandchildren, was one that enjoyed each other’s company, loved being together. There really was no place I’d rather be, especially at the holidays, than in my grandpa’s house with my dad, my aunts, uncles and cousins. At these gatherings, I could see the joy in my grandpa when his house was filled with family and guests enjoying themselves. Even as recently as a few Christmases ago, there was my grandpa taking tequila shots with his children and grandchildren. That’s the good stuff.
Everyone knows, my grandpa was the hardest working guy any of us knew. He instilled in his children and grandchildren a solid work ethic. We all took our turn with the push broom sweeping the back yard, or spending our Sundays at the Fox Plaza swap meet. You know, the swap meet was really the first job I ever had. The first dollar I ever earned from work was working for my grandpa. Today, when I look at my aunts and uncles, my cousins, I see his values alive and well. We all know what a solid day’s work is and because of that we are able to have a well-deserved good time in each other’s company. Those are the values he instilled in us.
I know many of us in this room can think of the many favors and he has performed. I could never repay him for all he’s done for me throughout my life, but I hope I can express the gratitude it deserves.
But you know, he is alive and well here in this room, in each of our hearts. He’s has now joined my Grandma Chickie. They are both now looking after all of us and we will never forget either of them. I live out in Colorado. I wasn’t here at his passing. I wish I could have just seen him one more time. If I could just to say “thank you for everything, Grandpa.” I know he knows.
“Ay te wacho, Grandpa.”