6/25/24 – My Eulogy to My Mom
There are not enough words to encapsulate the life of my beloved mother, Marleny Velez. I know that even though I spent almost every day of my life with my mother, I know only a fraction of my mom’s adventures on this Earth. I also know that if I did begin to share the portions of my mom’s life that I do know, it would be enough to create a series of novels that would make the great Colombian author Gabriel García Márquez jealous.
One book would be called Work. My mother was the hardest working person I have ever known. She came to this country in her twenties without knowing anyone and without knowing a word of English. She started as a maid to wealthy families in Long Island and eventually secured a union job cleaning office spaces. She continued to clean the apartments of Manhattanites until she could no longer work because of her health. My mother worked days and nights to provide for her family as a single mother but still had enough generosity in her heart to open the doors of her home and sometimes financially support friends and family. I’m proud to know that many people have acheived the American Dream because one day my mom decided to leave everyone and everything she knew in Colombia to come to the United States.
One book would be called Music and Dancing, which she enjoyed “en sano juicio” because she never drank alcohol or smoked anything of any kind. This is information I was once compelled to share at a holiday work party when one of her colleagues exclaimed “Marleny is drunk!” after watching my mom get too low on the dance floor and fall back with her legs in the air reaching towards the ceiling. After working hard all week, she enjoyed visiting the local dance clubs on Saturdays to get a few piezas in. To this day, she is the only mom I know who had her son frequently pick her up from the club. In fact, he was the one who had to pick her up at El Abuelo Gozon one New Year’s Eve to take her the the ER when an overzealous dance partner gave her too hard of a spin and she slipped and broke her wrist. Yes, my mom knew how to have a good time indeed.
Some of my most cherished childhood memories are of the music and dancing that filled our home in Corona. Even on those early morning Saturdays when it was meant to wake me and my brother up from sleep because it was time to clean the house. Many people in this room can attest to the fact that my mother was an amazing dancer. If you’ve ever seen me or my brother dance, know that she taught us everything we know.
One book would be called Shopping. I went to Catholic school for most of my life and I’ll always remember my mother telling me, “You’re in uniform Monday through Friday. I don’t want you in a uniform on the weekends, too.” This meant that I couldn’t wear what everyone else was wearing or shop at the same neighborhood stores everyone shopped. We also all came to know the trigger phrase that got her to immediately pull out the credit card – “it’s the last one.” This where my love for unique and rare pieces comes from.
One book would be called the The Husbands. There were 6 of them by the way, that I know of anyway. Perhaps a few people in this room might enlighten me. There was the husband who she had killed on paper (it’s a long story) and one who I personally wanted to kill. I’m mostly kidding. But it was through two of those novela—like relationships that my brother and I came to be.
But by far the largest book in the collection would be called Family. This book would not only include her blood relatives but also the many family members she lovingly adopted along the way. So much so that I have many aunts and uncles I don’t have any blood relation to and even someone I consider to be another son to my mom.
Let me tell you about my mother’s relationship with my brother, Wilson. They were so much alike that it’s no wonder why they had such a beautiful relationship. My brother is fun, playful, the life of the party and the center of attention in every room he’s in. He has such welcoming and positive energy that everyone immediately becomes a friend from the moment they meet. That was Marleny Velez.
My mother and I were very different. She was outgoing, I was very quiet. She made friends wherever she went, like during her daily commutes on the 7 train. I barely leave my home and this may be the longest you’ve ever heard me speak. Perhaps this is why we occasionally…and maybe even often struggled. But no matter how upset we’d get at each other, we were best friends, confidants and co-conspirators. My mother often watched my kids while I worked or ran errands. She sometimes called me to ask if I needed her to watch the kids and after I said no, she’d say, “ok. I’ll just come over for a visit then.” I was blessed to always have my mother close by and I’ll never forget all the time we shared.
As lucky as I was to be Marleny’s daughter, it was the grandchildren who were the most fortunate of all. My mother was always someone my brother and I could count with our children. Her love and support were immeasurable. Joshuwa, Catalina, Liam, Clara, Louis, Bella and Benny – grandma loved you all so very much and she will live on through you. She will live on through all of us in our wonderful memories and through each act of generosity we share for the rest of our days.
