After thanking everyone for coming, this is what I read at the rosary for my father two nights after he passed away on May 5, 2009:
José López-Gastón was born in Havana, Cuba on November 14, 1928 but the lineage of most of his family could be traced back to Spain.
His elementary and secondary education was with the Marist Brothers and he actually served as a Marist Brother from 1943 to 1959. In 1960, he obtained a dispensation from Rome to leave that community.
He married Maria Dolores Nebril in Spain on May 5, 1962 and came to the United States later that same year. They had five children. They lived in Ohio, Florida, Georgia, Maryland and, finally, New Mexico. He became an American citizen in 1968.
My father was always a very religious man and devout Catholic. His faith was extremely strong and he prayed dutifully. He taught us religion at home. He was ordained a deacon in the Roman Catholic Church in 1972. Often, when I would bring my girlfriends home to meet my family, he would take the opportunity to say that he was a deacon in the church and, as such, he could perform weddings and, of course, he would only be glad to do so. I think if I had ever said yes, he would have married us on the spot. But he did always do whatever he could to stay close to God and to serve Him.
My father was also a very educated man. In some ways, I think of him as a sort of white sheep of his family. My grandfather was an architect, designer and construction contractor in Cuba and my father’s brothers all followed suit and worked with him. My dad wanted instead to be educated and to pursue a close relationship with God.
He obtained a BA in Cuba in 1951 and a PhD in Humanities at the Catholic University of Havana in 1956. He then earned an MA and a PhD in Romance Languages at the University of Florida in 1968.
He taught elementary and high school in Havana, Mexico City, Cincinnati, Ohio; Jacksonville, Florida; Jacksonville, Illinois and Rockford, Illinois. He was a college professor in Milledgeville, Georgia; Emmitsburg, Maryland and at New Mexico Highlands University in Las Vegas where he was the Chairman of the Modern Foreign Languages Department.
My dad valued education, knowledge and culture. He thought those things were important for his children as well, so he founded St. Athanasius, a small private school in Las Vegas, in order to make sure that we would get a good Catholic education. I don’t know if you know anything about the public school system in Las Vegas, New Mexico... but this is something that I am eternally grateful to him for.
My father was so happy in the classroom. A few of us here took Latin in high school with him and I know some also had him in college. His love for literature was unparalleled, particularly literature from the Golden Age of Spain. I was privileged enough to take a seminar with him on Don Quixote and one on 19th Century Spanish Literature. It was wonderful to hear him teach about the things he loved so much.
When I lived in Las Vegas, people would stop me regularly to tell me how much they loved having my dad as a teacher. It was not unusual to hear people whom I did not know tell me that he was the best professor they ever had. Throughout his life, former students would routinely get in touch with him to let him know how much they loved being his students and, in many cases, how he changed their lives.
A perfect example is an email we received just yesterday from an old student of his. This former student was a friend of another student of his named Paco who kept in touch regularly with my dad. Here’s what the email said:
To the Lopez-Gaston family:
I have followed through Paco's emails how Jose Ramon's health deteriorated in the last months. Ramon was my teacher in the 3rd grade and then again in the 3rd year of High School. To say that he left an indelible mark in my life does not do justice to the person, the teacher and the friend. Perhaps I can illustrate how influential he was in my life by saying that I myself retired from teaching High School after 23 years, oftentimes remembering how dedicated, professional and saintly he was and how I could never measure up to his standards and commitment. Ramon not only taught us the subjects but instilled in us a love for the subjects he taught. I for one have carried that love throughout my life and believe that in the end it made me a better teacher and a better person. If it serves as consolation, allow me to reiterate to you that he was one of the most remembered teachers that the group (our group) always talked about. Tonite, our prayers go to you and to our Lord for having given us the privilege and honor of learning from and knowing such a professor.
With kindest regards, Armando Gil.
My father really did get so much joy from teaching. He loved to impart knowledge and to enlighten. And even after he retired, you could still hear him take the tone of a teacher whenever someone would sit and take the time to listen.
My father was very proud of his Iberian heritage. One of the many things he wrote was a book called “Tradicion Hispanica de Nuevo Mexico”, which detailed the history of the Hispanic cultural tradition and the spread of Catholicism in New Mexico.
My father also loved music, in particular, a traditional form of light opera from Spain known as zarzuelas. He was especially of waltzes and the music of Johann Strauss.
My father was a kind man. He always was willing to help people – even when, perhaps, it wasn’t the best idea. I know that he helped me whenever I needed it. He would never question it. I really don’t think his heart would allow it.
Four and a half years ago, a medical misdiagnosis almost cost my dad his life. He was very durable and somehow made through. It caused dramatic changes in his life and in the lives of all his family. It was a long and often difficult road. Everyone helped out in whatever way they could. It took a great deal of sacrifice from those who loved him. My wonderful, dear mother did so much – she worked so hard and truly worked wonders. But I think that if we had lost him four and a half years ago, it would have been so traumatic and we may have been asking ourselves, when was the last time we told him that we loved him? As hard as it has been, we have truly had an opportunity to show him just how much we loved him and just how much we cared. He had an opportunity to feel that love and that care from all of us. My father suffered a lot during this time. However, the question of, how could anyone deserve this, could be balanced with the question, what did he do to have a family that loves him so much?
No matter how prepared you think you are, you are never really prepared to lose someone you truly love. I think it always catches us off guard. As we start to come to terms with this loss, I know I speak for of all my family when I say that we have been deeply fortunate to have him in our lives. His choices, in an overwhelming number of ways, defined who we are as a family. They are the reason why we are where we are and, in turn, why we know most everyone who is in this room. I wonder, if I become close to someone in the future, how could they truly know me if they did not know him? I almost feel that, in some ways, I can't be fully understood without knowledge of who he was. I am glad he had grandchildren whom he got to know and who got to know him. Sadly, there are some of his grandchildren who will not get to know him. For me, it is painful to think that if I ever marry or if I ever have children... those important people in my life will not have the opportunity to know him - to see him smiling at them, to feel his embrace and to be in the warmth of his presence.
But when someone passes, we have new ways and new opportunities to fully allow who they were to impact our lives... new ways to honor and to love... new ways to continue to carry his sprit with us and to let it affect who we are. For my father, I know we will always need a very, very large place to carry all of this in our hearts. But it is from this place in our hearts that we will let him continue to touch our lives and to touch the lives of even those who have yet to know about him.
And so I say: Gracias por todo, te queremos muchisimo, papa, y te vamos a extrañar tanto.
