Lauro Sierra

Padre, Le doy gracias a Dioz, por ser mi padre, all the lessons, the values of a man, pero especialmente; the opportunity to connect with you the last few years when your mind was decaying until the last second. You told me the story when you were young.  One day after school you followed a progression of people carrying a body from the hospital of a person that had died in the mine. You followed the progression that went to the home of Tio Macario, dear brother of my abuelita Agustina. Los recuerdos de su querido pueblo, donde piso Dioz, San Francisco del Oro, Chih., Mejico.  La casa donde nació en la Vicente Guerrero.  El salón de baile de los Sierra.  Donde el dueño del salón Amado Aguilera, se los dio a usted, Tio Gustavo, y Tio Tony Marnez.   The day that my abuelo Gustavo died and you dressed him with the help of mi Tia Elena’s Dad Irineo. The delicious candy that my abuela Agustina such the “orejones” Cuando hera coven vendia dulces de Ulloa. As a teenager after finishing primaria, started working in the company coperava carrying 50 kilo sacks of sugar or beans. You were doing the same work as of the young men working there for less pay.  One day you demanded from the manager to get paid the same. It was great accomplishment. Tenía una gran admiración a Jose de la Luz Marnez, a su Tía Rosario “Chayo” hermana  de mi abuelo  Gustavo y familia.  Recordaba de ellos muchas cosas.  Lo más que mencionaba a  su primo Rodolfo, el mayor, que un día lo subió a un caballo y se cayó. As I read out loud, from the book de San Francisco del Oro by the author Payan. You would remember many things such playing basketball and the players such as la “troca” Castañeda, o Gustavo which also played beisball and learn with the help of “el surdo Molinar,  to pitch with left hand, they called him “la machetona” a!er mi a Lili. You remember all the union leaders dela Frisco.  Tia Lily and cousin Tita winning the district championship in basketball.  The book remembered my o Victor as being active in playing basketball, acting in theater, and participating in boy scouts.  He used to shout fouls in the tamalera style.   Se acordó de mí a So3a, cuando la visitó en Veracruz. Padre, muchas de las veces que platicaba con usted, me preguntaba por mi a Cuca, me decía que le hablara con ella, y que mantuviera contacto con ella. On your last days of your life Padre, you had direct conversations with my Tio Gustavo and mi abuelo Gustavo and at the end of the day you wanted to go home to my abuela Agustina.

I have so many fond memories of my dad. Me and my dad use talk about the jobs he would lathe while living in Las Cruces, NM. I also remember him taking us to Dies y Seis De Septiembre Celebration of Independence in San Francisco Del Oro. He also took me as a young boy to see the factory where he worked maintaining the plastic molds for plastic toys. This was in Deming, NM. I also remember when he use take us on picnics. He also taught me how to throw free throws and sky hooks in basketball. He taught me how to play chess and I could never beat him, he was an excellent chess player. I'm going to truly miss him!

Mi padre, mi profesor,  mi primer amor. 
Recuerdo a mi padre dándome seguridad una noche antes de entrar a mi primer día de clase, acostados en la cama y yo preguntando mis incertidumbre ya que estaba con ansiedad de no encontrar mi salón y el con calma contestando..
Recuerdo a mi padre dándome halagos cuando más lo necesitaba. 
Recuerdo sentir tener que agarrarme del asiento  y piso con todas mis uñas, cuando cruzábamos el puente de Juárez a El Paso en nuestra primera camioneta standar donde no tenía mucha platica manejando y llendose  para atrás. 
Hombre con dignidad, juguetón, comprendido a su familia y trabajo. 
Su corazón fue su esencia. Pusieron esa semilla en tierra fértil y sigue y seguirá dando fruto.

Papá. Mi profesor de siempre,

Siempre tratando de enseñarme algo, desde amarrar las lisas de los zapatos hasta algunas matemáticas complicadas que estaban más allá de lo que un niña de 6 años podría entender. Seguí aprendiendo de ti incluso cuando tu Alzheimer estaba en su apogeo. Me enseñaste a ser más paciente, a amar pase lo que pase. Incluso en tus últimos días, intentabas enseñarme a quitar tus zapatos “calmada”, y a caminar “poco a poco”. Apreciaré todos nuestros momentos especiales como cuando tomabas mi mano para besarla. No puedo decir todo lo que me has dado, pero sé que te amo y te extrañaré por siempre. 

Hija

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Papá.  My forever teacher,

Always trying to teach me something from tying my shoelaces to some complicated math that was  beyond what a 6 year old could possibly understand. I kept learning from you even when your Alzheimer’s was raging.  You taught me to be more patient, to love no matter what. Even in your last days, you were trying to teach me how to take your shoes off “calmada” and to walk “poco a poco”.  I will cherish all our special moments like you reaching out for my hand to give it a kiss. I can’t possibly tell all that you have given me, but know that I love you and I will miss you forever. 

Hija

I’m normally a very private person but I had to share how blessed and proud, I am to have had this man in my life, my first love. He came to the US in 1968 leaving all his family behind in Mexico. He worked so hard to be able to support his family of 7. I remember he would get up and read the Newspaper everyday not leaving a page unturned. When he came across a word he did not understood he would circle it and write down the word to look up the definition and write next to word. Education was extremely important and with that importance of education he was able to put all his children through college. An opportunity that was not possible in Mexico. There was not a day that we did not have music playing in the house. We were very humble people and music was all we had. I loved the moments when we danced together just because..You were such a good dancer. Dad you should be so proud, you left such a beautiful foundation and pillars to continue your legacy. Until we dance again in heaven.

Lauro B. Sierra  - Dad - Pops - Padre

Mi Padre, wasn't a man of many words but when he spoke his words were precise. Other times, just his presence and mannerisms made statements without ever speaking. I remember my dad coming home washing up or showering after a long day of work from Phelps Dodge in the summer. He would go out into the yard and begin to water the trees and grass then usually followed by relaxing on his chair under a shaded tree on the grass. This is where I found my dad sitting in the coolness of the evening. My dad was either reading, listening to music, or just sitting in silence. My dad literally liked to watch the grass grow! He especially enjoyed when someone would come out and sit with him in silence.

As time passed we had a relationship that did not require a dialog but as grown men we understood each other. At times I would try to spark up a conversation by asking "how did you sleep last night?" He replied "con los ojos cerrados" ("with my eyes closed"). His humor always gave the indication that he was doing good. The way my dad gave approval is with a simple reply, "eso!" whether it was winning a game or making basket.

So with a father who did not use many words, how did we know he loved us? He worked hard to provide for his 7 children, by working as a machinist for long hours. He enjoyed to sacrifice for his family, so that we may have the opportunity to grow and flourish ( like trees and grass :) ). I hope you are sitting in the green pastures in heaven and watching us.

Thanks dad, for showing me how to sit in silence and showing me the value of hard work, especially how to sacrifice for the better good of family.

Me Padre - ESO! Bien vida. 

It has been the hardest thing I have had to go through but the most spiritual and beautiful journey that we went through together as a family. Our Dad taught us so much our entire life and even in his passing. His family was his biggest accomplishment. He invested in us with unconditional love, time, and lessons. I will miss him, remember him, and love him …Always....

Tata, For me it was finding your Mentos in the sock drawer, and the feeling of awe when observing your pipe. The type of Sherlock Holmes.

It was watching you work in the garage while I walked outside into the morning sun. 

It was sitting in your favorite brown recliner chair, that held your favorite manly cologne. 

It was playing with the neighbors while you watered the grass. 

It was my favorite time of getting dipped cones from dairy queen and then racing to the park.

Tata it was that loud grinning laugh when jumping on your lap. 

It was watching you circle words in the paper and how you told me it was to learn. 

It was fitting on the small back seats of your black truck. Oh and who can forget the fun station wagon where we jumped the seats. 

It was having you there for family basketball games. 

It was Univison and sometimes loud snores of falling asleep on your chair. 

It was your classical oldie Mexican music. 

It was your plaid sweaters and corduroy pants. 

It was your smile, and large arms for your strong hugs. 

It was. Actually more than that. Will always be. For me. For us. You will always. Te quiero y te quedas en mi corazon.

Your imprint.