On this, our first Thanksgiving without you, my heart is full of thanksgiving for you.  Thank you for being my mother, for being there for me, for raising Jordan with me, for loving us all so fiercely, for teaching us about traditions, for walking me down the aisle, for making all my maternity clothes, for thinking I was beautiful, for carrying my purse, for crying with me during “Please Don’t Go”, for always knowing what to say, for looking for me, for teaching me how to cook, how to sew, and how to be a mother, and in April, how to be a grandmother.  I love you.  I miss you.  These holidays will never be same without you here with us. 

My sweet mother left this life on January 7, 2014.  Since that day, we've lived through  what would have been her 69th birthday, Easter, and now today, Mother's Day.  I wonder if she knows that the family she left behind to join my father in Heaven, would be so devastated by her loss.  I believe she would not.  Left to mourn her passing, are her three children, her 2 son in laws and her daughter in law, her 7 grandchildren, and one great grandchild.  She also left behind so many memories, and so many lessons on what a Mother is.

She taught us selflessness.  She left school in the 6th grade to care for her mother, without complaint, without resentment.   She put her children before her in all things, all the time, exactly the same way.  

She taught us to work hard.  She cleaned houses to keep our family going when we were young, she washed dishes, cleaned a restaurant and made sopaipillas all day long...often coming home crying because her feet hurt so much.  She rolled our neighbors hair for $5 a day in order to get us through school.

She taught us how to love.  She went to our schools all the time, in the background, quietly making cupcakes, going on our field trips, making puppets.  She made our easter dresses, by hand, made sure we had presents at Christmas.

She taught us how to treasure traditions.  Christmas means tamales.  Road trips mean fried chicken at rest stops.  

She taught us that the most important thing is family.  To love each other.  To help each other.  To be good to each other.  

My mother helped me raise my son.  From the minute he was born.  She loved him, and  he loved her.  She was as much a mom to him as I am. 

Today I remember my Mother.  Every day for the rest of my life, I will remember my Mother and everything that she taught me, and everything that she meant to me.  I love you and miss you on this Mother's Day and I thank you for everything that you taught me.  Rest in peace, Elvira, until we see each other again.

 

I love and miss you so much that I can hardly breathe.  Your 69th birthday was on April 30, 2014.  I sensed last year that you wouldn't be here for it this year, but my heart didnt want to believe what my head kept saying.  I will never forget you.  You are always in my heart Elvira.  Rest in peace my sweet.
 

As Easter passes quietly, I spend the day remembering 46 Easters with my parents, who are now gone from this life.  How my mother loved Easter, and all that it meant.  As children, my mother made Easter dresses for my sister and I, complete with matching petticoats and always ensured that we had our Easter baskets.  I don't know how she made our dresses, with no sewing machine, but she did.  Coloring eggs the night before, making sure that we had something planned - a picnic in the park, White Sands was a favorite... going to Cloudcroft.  Always up early, load the grill, take her fried chicken and potatoe salad...then as we had children, sometimes going to Santa Fe to see Peggy and her family, but always doing something.  She has been gone for 3 months.  Her birthday is approaching and I don't know how to get through it.  She would have been 69 this year.  I hope that she knows how much she is missed.  How much I loved her.  How much I miss her, and wish that she would have been well and would have been able to stay with us.  Rest peacefully Mrs. Adams.  I miss you and I love you.

A part of my grieving process is to remember my mother and to share memories of her with anyone that might read these tributes. 

It is also through talking to her spirit.  Talking to her at any time during the day makes me feel more in touch with her and closer to this woman who was so much a part of my life for the past 45 years. 

Praying for her eternal rest is the way I start and end my days.  She was a believer and a child of God, and I know that her soul is in paradise. 

How Elvira loved the holidays…Thanksgiving with the turkey, the stuffing and the pies.  When she was able, she was our pie maker.  She was also our sopaipilla and tortilla maker.  She also loved Christmas time … from the writing of her list to opening the packages, eating the Christmas cookies, and when she was well – making the endless tamales and menudo that she loved so much.  She loved them so much and would freeze and eat them both for months afterward, always saying “no one makes them better”.  We haven’t made tamales or menudo for years, but I’ll always remember the 1st of November rolling around and her telling me that it’s time to order the masa for the tamales…and being worried if we hadn’t secured a turkey by mid month. 

I’ll miss you mom, your love of tamales, your love of the holidays, your lists… and then more lists.  I’ll miss you every day, for the rest of my life.  I look forward to seeing you again and I love you.

I miss…
Seeing your face.
Kissing you.
Holding your hand.
Sitting quietly with you.
Watching you sleep.
Waiting to hear that you were back.
Taking you to the store.
How you smelled, like Vicks and Jovan.
Your voice.
Listening to music with you.
Going to church with you.
Going to work with you when I was little.
Knowing you were safe in bed down the hall.

I wish…
That you were still here and well.
That you never had to start dialysis.
That you never had diabetes.
That you never had a bad heart.
That your life hadn’t been so hard.
That you didn’t have to work so hard when you were young.
That dad hadn’t left us on our own.
That you had been able to finish school.
That you would call me again.
That you had never gotten hurt by Elite.
That you had lived long enough to get white hair.
That you had lived long enough to see what all of your grandchildren will become.
That all the people that were at your funeral had gone to visit you at Vista Hills.
That you could have seen all the people at your funeral.
That you had never left my home.
That I had spent more time with you.
That I had not been afraid to hold you more.
That there was no reason to create this memorial.

I know…
That you knew we were all with you when you left this earth.
That you loved us all.
That you were proud of your children.
That you were proud of your grandchildren.
That you are at peace and without pain.
That you were tired.
That you are in heaven with dad and your parents.
That we will get better.
That we will never forget you.
That we love you.

I pray…
For you to be at peace, happy, and restful.
That you can walk.
That your heart works.  
That you are free of all pain.
That you forgave me for any harsh word, disappointment, frustrated look, anything that may have caused you even a moment of worry, pain, or sadness.  I’m sorry.
That you will be our guardian angel.
That I will see you again in Glory.
For God’s healing touch on our sad and lonely hearts.

My mind is so flooded with stories about my mother, that I don’t even know where to start.  But sharing my memories of her makes me feel less sad…as though she lives on in our memories of her.  So, snippets of memories come flooding through my mind that I will share, in no particular order.  For those of you that knew her, you will nod your heads… for those that didn’t have the pleasure of knowing her, this will give you some insight as to who she was and why she will be so missed.  My mother loved RED.  Red clothes, hats, gloves, RED Perfume, red journals, red, red, red. 

She was also a very spiritual person, so much so that anytime I needed prayer I went right to her.  I always felt that she was very close to God and that He would listen to her when she came calling.  She would immediately start saying a Novena and praying for whatever request I took to her.  She especially loved talking to the volunteers that would visit her at Vista Hills which was her temporary home for the past 4 years.   She also loved the volunteers that would go and polish her nails for her.  My mother loved bracelets and any type of earrings.  She had double piercings in her ears and would love to mix and match them, but had such a hard time keeping them in pairs. 

She was a very sociable person, but only with people she knew. She did not like to socialize with the other residents of Vista Hills…didn’t like their projects or themed parties, but they all tried to get her to join them.  My mother was a voracious reader!  She loved magazines (thank you Rebeca for keeping us in Glamour, People, US, Elle and Cosmo!)… she also loved Danielle Steele!  She loved the telephone!!! She loved calling her kids, my husband, and Jordan!  She also loved calling her cousin Turi Ramirez, and the nurses if they weren’t responding to her quickly enough. She also loved calling my office!  She knew that the girls that answered (thank you Valerie, Jessica, and Lori for always being so nice to her when she called) would find me.  I hope that I have a voice mail from her on my phone at work, just to hear her say, “Tess, pick up.  I just want to know if you are coming over tonight.”  I would give anything to hear those words again.  Mom, I love and miss you so much.  I await the time that I will be with you and daddy again...God bless you and keep you in his everlasting light.

In 1967, our mother, Elvira Chavez was married to the love of her life, Mr. Scotty Ray Adams, at the San Jose Church.  This historic church building is located at 317 Josephine Street in La Mesa, New Mexico.  It was built in 1868 and added to the National Register in 1993.

Our father’s funeral mass was held there on May 25, 1996, and he was laid to rest in the San Jose Cemetery to await Elvira.

The adobe walls of San Jose Catholic Church contain a robust history, dating back to a time when the small town in southern Doña Ana County was part of Mexico.

About 160 years ago, workers gathered disputed dirt to form the adobe bricks that would become the famed La Mesa church's walls. In the mid-1850s, the U.S. and Mexico each claimed the Mesilla Valley. By the time the countries finally agreed on the boundary — signing what became known as the Gadsden Purchase — the church was nearly a year old. New Mexico was still almost 60 years away from statehood.

This building is more than a building to the community.  It's an anchor that itself contains the many lives responsible for the formation of the community and many generations of solid families whose lives were centered around the church and agriculture.  It's just one of the jewels within the Mesilla Valley.