Amelia Villanueva

Today is August 10, 2026. It is my mother's 97 birthday. Mom passed away on January 4, 2026. Mom moved in with us in 2024. I paused this family history website during Mom's stay and will start adding new material again. This first post is the eulogy I gave. It captures my Mom's favorite memories. Happy Birthday Mom!

January 9th, 2026

Good evening. I am Steve, I was mom’s favorite (son). [this was an old family joke]

First, I want to thank all of you for everything you did last weekend. To be there, to call her, to text and support us. It meant a lot. And the effort this week to ensure this celebration of mom’s life is as perfect as it could be. Thank you.

It would be very easy for any of us to think of mom as the sweet older lady, who had a poor memory, a pretty smile, liked to watch birds, and occasionally delivered a zinger.

But there was much more to her than that.

Mom would have made an excellent story about someone growing up in the hardships of the Great Depression, suffered through a natural disaster and endured personal loss. Today that would be a Netflix limited series.

But when I saw Mom that wasn’t who I saw. I saw the woman who got you up in the morning, sent you to school, shopped for you through the Montgomery Wards catalog, told us not to touch anything in the store – keep your hands to yourself.

She had dinner ready every night. Keeping it warm in the oven if necessary.

She hung clothes on the clothesline. Ironed clothes. Folded diapers. She made tortillas – if we were lucky we were the flipper and got that first tortilla. She did her daughters hair in curls, with rags, pink sponges, other stuff I don’t know about. She helped you with homework, combed and cut your hair, and comforted you when you were ill. All this to say she was Mom.

She set the bar for every other mother I would know. And that was unfortunate for them.

I was lucky to be with Mom a lot last year. Ask her about anything I wanted, unfortunately many of the details had faded. But occasionally she would spit out a name, a thought, a story, a memory – I don’t know where they came from, but I was so blessed to hear them.

There were the goodnights at the orphanage. I’m not talking about pleasant evenings – I mean the ones that sounded like the end of the Waltons.

Good night Mary Ellen, Good night Elizabeth!

The 30 girls in the dorm would carry on for a long time, saying good night to each other, until the Nun told them that was enough and to go to sleep.

As an older child at the orphanage, a new 3- or 4-year-old would arrive and become attached to Mom. Holding her hand, following her everywhere. Even sitting next to her in the dining room on top of phone books.

She got on the roof once by climbing a ladder through a door in the ceiling. Then she went for walk on the roof railing with another girl holding her hand. She was adventurous, brave, and daring.

In high school at Joplin, MO (150 miles away) she attended boarding school. Some girls were like her, others were from rural areas and their parents paid for boarding school.

Mom recalled spending a weekend with such a friend. There was an outhouse, very little heat, and bareback horseback riding. She said that was her only time riding a horse.

She played clarinet – remembered performing Onward Christian Soldiers at a military rehab hospital. She worked as a soda jerk for a week. Filling in for someone operating the soda fountain. Can you see Mom making an ice cream soda for someone. Wish there were selfies back then.

Mom was 18 when her senior year in high school was about to begin. She was old enough to make her own decisions and knew she didn’t want to stay in Joplin. So, with the help of a nun, Sister Lawrence Jean, who coached Mom on what to do and say, she returned to the orphanage in Kansas City and attended a local high school. Mom talked them into letting her stay in an apartment at the orphanage. This allowed her to graduate.

When high school ended, she had a job waiting for her at a plumbing place. Soon followed by work at the Columbian Hog and Cattle Powder Company. Eventually she ended up working for the United Packinghouse Workers union. She took shorthand, typed on the old non-electric typewriters (she hated the electric ones), and used a mimeograph machine.

For a period after high school she lived with her sister Esa and brother-in-law Rudy. Then she had her own apartment in Armourdale. She would walk, in her high heels, to work.

She was a secretary and loved talking about the people she worked with. She also liked looking at the cowboys across the street that moved the cattle into the packinghouse.

She worked with a couple of women – Martha and Marion.  Martha was a tiny white woman. Marion was a black woman. They would be arm-in-arm walking in downtown KC. People would turn and watch them.

Mom said the time she worked at the Union were her “pregnant” years. For Mom those pregnant years and child rearing started in 1951 and continued full-time until 1983 before she was legally not responsible. But of course, her call to duty continued for many more years.

Mom had this romantic memory of the first home she and Dad owned. All her children were raised here. It was a tiny house when they bought it, one bedroom one bath. But they built an addition with two extra bedrooms and bath. Mom was there with Dad, holding up drywall and doing other things as they built this. I think she took pride in that. Over the last year when she told me she wanted to go home, this is the home she was talking about.

She and Dad had great friends. There was Luther and Carmen, and there was Frank and Sadie. There were over 15 kids between these 3 couples, who would want to be together with these people! Now there was a little liquor present at these get togethers so maybe that helped. Those friendships continued even after we moved to Illinois. Mom frequently asked about them, her siblings, and her in-laws. She called them all “her people”.

She loved Johnny Carson and Jeopardy (the Art Fleming and Alex Trebeck ones). She was a Kansas City Chiefs season ticket holder in the days Super Bowl was just beginning.

She loved to drink coffee with her children. Mom loved a little gambling adventure! We were lucky to get out one night last year.

With the beginning Mom had it is a miracle we have what we have today. I will give a lot of credit to my Dad and his family. Maybe mom was just lucky. But I know she was a big part of the success we have here today.

Mom recalled one of Dad’s memories. His mother and father passing each other in the kitchen doorway. His father passionately kissed his mother. Mom lived in this same house when she married Dad. She could visualize the scene. I believe that spirit entered her.

The love Mom had for Dad was immense. For those of my generation who witnessed it, it was obvious. The effort they put into, and the ease it came for them. We are lucky they documented those feelings for each other in notes and letters. Some will be shared tomorrow.

We all benefited from their love. It is with us at this moment.