Funerals are never easy, even when they are expected.
Adam's grandmother
Monica passed away earlier this month. Her funeral was this weekend and it was a great tribute to her life.

Not only did we celebrate her life, but it was the burial of Monica and her husband Aldo. Aldo passed away 4 1/2 years ago and was cremated. So his ashes were put in her casket.

I only knew Mamina and Papillo (those are the names they had as grandparents), while they were old and frail. Adam and I used to go over to their home a few times a week when we were newlyweds and Adam would do physical therapy with his grandfather while Mamina and I tried to communicate in her broken English how to cook. Most of the time she would ask Adam what the word was she was looking for, or if I couldn't understand, she'd shrug her shoulders and move on. Usually we'd end up laughing since our communication was so limited.
The boys handled it well. They did know Mamina. She would speak fast Spanish to them and they would giggle. Jack would talk in jibberish back to her.
The day before the funeral Sam said, "Mamina talks like this, blobby blobby blah blah." We tried to explain that it was Spanish, another language, and when Adam started to speak in Spanish, the boys just laughed.
It is sad to see a generation pass. We are so indebted to them. They made many sacrifices to bring their family to America, and for that we will be forever grateful.



Even though it was a funeral, we still had a little fun. Mamina would be happy.