May 11, 2008
What a Month.
Here we are on the 11th of May--Mother's Day, in case you forgot--and it's already been a literal whirlwind of activity. Seriously, the wind is like 30 mph outside, gusting to 38. But that's not really what I'm talking about. I am truly saddened to report that my grandfather, Mom's dad, Lawrence Barboza died in hospital Friday, May 2 at the age of 80. He had been sick for some time but it doesn't really make it any less of a loss. And I thought, until I got the call, that he had been doing much better. And that is my fault. As most of you (or should I say the 2 of you still reading) know, my primary means of communication is either email or gtalk. Which, sadly, means if you don't have the email, I probably don't stay in touch with you as well as I should. Even if you do, I have to admit I still don't mail as often as I would like.
In any case, the news that he wasn't doing well was a bit of a surprise and I was hoping he would pull through and have a bit more time. Obviously, that was not the case and we ended up flying to Boston Monday so we could be there for the funeral Tuesday. Now the positive side of a trip to Boston is we get to see that part of the family we don't usually see. In fact, the last time I was up there was the week of September 11th, 2001. It was absolutely amazing to see how everyone had changed and stayed the same. My youngest cousins are now in their twenties and the older ones, still not quite in their thirties, have their own children! Jeez Louise. People who were literally babies the last time we saw them are now in their teens (keep in mind we didn't get to see everyone the last time we were up there) and all sulking around like a proper teenager. Then there are the aunts and uncles who, despite the added years, are immediately recognizable and look almost the same as I remember them. My grandmother, who we've always called Nana, still looks exactly the same as last time, to me anyway. Granted, she's having a bit more difficulty getting around, but it's like she's been 55 for the last 25 years. And there must have been a dozen great uncles and great aunts who I hadn't met before last Tuesday and probably won't see again until something else bad happens. (Lovely thought, huh?) We didn't get to spend as much time with them as I would've liked, but that's always the case.
Since we were there, Mom suggested we drive up Cape Cod all the way to the bitter end. It's about 2 hours or so from Randolph and since Aimee's never been (it's been at least 30 years for me) we decided that was a good idea. Much better than the original, which was to drive out to Connecticut to hit the Mohegan Sun casino. I heard it's great, but I'm just not a gambler so the coast was a much better way to go in my book. The most striking thing about New England, to me, is the age of everything. Remember, Oklahoma just celebrated our centennial last November. We drove through towns which were settled in the 1600's and incorporated in the 1700's. A good example was our final destination, Provincetown. Which, if I remember correctly, was the ORIGINAL landing site for Captain Myles Standish and the rest of the pilgrims who eventually sailed over to Plymouth. Anyway, they signed the Mayflower Compact there in 1620 and the town was incorporated in 1727. Crazy, huh? Even in Randolph, where Grandpa was buried, there are stones in St. Mary's cemetery which are similarly dated. There is just so much history there, it is seemingly taken for granted. We stopped at a few little places along the way, including the Truro Vineyard so Mom could get a case of her favorite vino. Another notable mention was the township of Sandwich. Yep Sandwich. Imagine our delight when we saw our first Sandwich Police car. I wonder if they have a sense of humor about that one, or if it has become THE chip on the shoulder. There is one more notable fact about visiting Massachusetts: I am no longer the only Portuguese person for 200 miles. Eric and I used to joke that we were the only Portuguese person in the state, and that was only when we combined each of our "halfs" to make one whole. Mom's whole family is Portuguese--a lot of the sailors who settled in that area were hired from Portugal--and the region is thick with linguica and Portuguese bakeries. Grandpa came over from the "old country" when he was just a wee lad of 6 and I'm not 100% sure how many of his 16 brothers and sisters came with him and his parents. Yeah, I said 16.
Altogether, it was a nice trip for a crappy reason. Except for the delays at the airport. Thanks, Newark. I promise next time I'll have something a little more upbeat. After all, May hasn't been an entire loss--I got to see Kelly AND his brother last weekend! Now that doesn't happen often. I'll leave you with Grandpa's obituary, copied from The Patriot Ledger.
In any case, the news that he wasn't doing well was a bit of a surprise and I was hoping he would pull through and have a bit more time. Obviously, that was not the case and we ended up flying to Boston Monday so we could be there for the funeral Tuesday. Now the positive side of a trip to Boston is we get to see that part of the family we don't usually see. In fact, the last time I was up there was the week of September 11th, 2001. It was absolutely amazing to see how everyone had changed and stayed the same. My youngest cousins are now in their twenties and the older ones, still not quite in their thirties, have their own children! Jeez Louise. People who were literally babies the last time we saw them are now in their teens (keep in mind we didn't get to see everyone the last time we were up there) and all sulking around like a proper teenager. Then there are the aunts and uncles who, despite the added years, are immediately recognizable and look almost the same as I remember them. My grandmother, who we've always called Nana, still looks exactly the same as last time, to me anyway. Granted, she's having a bit more difficulty getting around, but it's like she's been 55 for the last 25 years. And there must have been a dozen great uncles and great aunts who I hadn't met before last Tuesday and probably won't see again until something else bad happens. (Lovely thought, huh?) We didn't get to spend as much time with them as I would've liked, but that's always the case.
Since we were there, Mom suggested we drive up Cape Cod all the way to the bitter end. It's about 2 hours or so from Randolph and since Aimee's never been (it's been at least 30 years for me) we decided that was a good idea. Much better than the original, which was to drive out to Connecticut to hit the Mohegan Sun casino. I heard it's great, but I'm just not a gambler so the coast was a much better way to go in my book. The most striking thing about New England, to me, is the age of everything. Remember, Oklahoma just celebrated our centennial last November. We drove through towns which were settled in the 1600's and incorporated in the 1700's. A good example was our final destination, Provincetown. Which, if I remember correctly, was the ORIGINAL landing site for Captain Myles Standish and the rest of the pilgrims who eventually sailed over to Plymouth. Anyway, they signed the Mayflower Compact there in 1620 and the town was incorporated in 1727. Crazy, huh? Even in Randolph, where Grandpa was buried, there are stones in St. Mary's cemetery which are similarly dated. There is just so much history there, it is seemingly taken for granted. We stopped at a few little places along the way, including the Truro Vineyard so Mom could get a case of her favorite vino. Another notable mention was the township of Sandwich. Yep Sandwich. Imagine our delight when we saw our first Sandwich Police car. I wonder if they have a sense of humor about that one, or if it has become THE chip on the shoulder. There is one more notable fact about visiting Massachusetts: I am no longer the only Portuguese person for 200 miles. Eric and I used to joke that we were the only Portuguese person in the state, and that was only when we combined each of our "halfs" to make one whole. Mom's whole family is Portuguese--a lot of the sailors who settled in that area were hired from Portugal--and the region is thick with linguica and Portuguese bakeries. Grandpa came over from the "old country" when he was just a wee lad of 6 and I'm not 100% sure how many of his 16 brothers and sisters came with him and his parents. Yeah, I said 16.
Altogether, it was a nice trip for a crappy reason. Except for the delays at the airport. Thanks, Newark. I promise next time I'll have something a little more upbeat. After all, May hasn't been an entire loss--I got to see Kelly AND his brother last weekend! Now that doesn't happen often. I'll leave you with Grandpa's obituary, copied from The Patriot Ledger.
Randolph: Lawrence A. "Jake" Barboza, Sr. May 2nd. Beloved husband of Mary C. (Pina) Barboza . Loving father of Lawrence A. Barboza Jr. of Randolph, Jacqueline Jones of OK, Antonio C. Barboza of Las Vegas NV, Maria T. Beckman of Brockton, Jesse V. Barboza of Brockton and Lisa A Barboza of Randolph. Jake was one of 16 children and uncle to many nieces and nephews. Also survived by 19 grandchildren and 9 great grandchildren. Reposing at the Cartwright Funeral Home 419 N. Main St. (rt. 28) Randolph. Funeral Services will be private . Burial in St. Mary Cemetery Randolph. Should friends desire, memorial contributions may be made to the South Shore Hospital, 55 Fogg Rd., Weymouth, MA 02190. Jake grew up in Falmouth and was a graduate of Falmouth High School. He was a WWII Army-Air Corp. Veteran; he had worked for Star Market for over 20 years as a warehouse manager. Jake had lived in Randolph for over 47 years; he passed away in the South Shore Hospital in Weymouth at the age of 80. For additional information please visit www.cartwrightfuneral.com.
Published in The Patriot Ledger on 5/5/2008.
// posted by wayne @ 5/11/2008 12:42:00 AM 
