On Friday, I attended the funeral for John Medeiros, my godfather who passed away Aug. 31 at age 97. I always called him Padrinho, which is Portuguese for godfather. He was the last of the Medeiros family’s generation that included my father.
The funeral was held at the Grace Episcopal Church in New Bedford. Two of his grandchildren delivered eulogies that told so much about my godfather’s life, about his education, his military service, including in the Massachusetts State Guard during World War II and the Marines during the Korean War, where he was in active battle. He earned numerous medals as a Marine.
He was a carpenter, building homes with various construction companies, and also worked as a director of maintenance. He continued his love of working with wood to create gifts, such as bird houses and toys. His grandchildren talked about his personality, how he wasn’t shy about expressing his opinion. He was devoted to his family, plus a noted “dog whisperer.” There is so much more I could tell.
I remember as a child feeling fortunate this handsome man with the great smile was the person my parents chose to be my godfather. I treasure the photo above that shows me as a little girl holding a portrait of him in his Marine Corps uniform.
As a child, I spent so much time with my father’s family. Until I was two, my parents and I lived with my father’s parents on Jesse Street until we moved into the house they built two doors away. I probably spent much of that time sitting on the lap of my doting grandmother. After we moved, I still enjoyed being with her and my grandfather, who sold the vegetables, strawberries, and flowers he grew in their large fields at a farm stand, had large barns filled with egg-laying chickens I thought were scary, and made his own wine. My grandparents emigrated from the Azores.
They had nine children who lived to adulthood: sons, Joseph, Jesse, James and Antone — my father — John, and daughters, Isabel, Hilda, Margaret, and Elizabeth. Plus, I had so many cousins, including Deborah and Linda, my godfather’s daughters who remained so close to their father. I recall frequent family gatherings. These people helped create the warm and loving childhood I had.
As an adult, I had less contact with my father’s family as Hank and I raised our own away in different parts of the country. I reconnected with my godfather after the death of my father ten years ago. In my mind, he hadn’t changed from the handsome man I recalled seeing as a young person.
On Friday, Hank and I made the long trip from Western Massachusetts because it was important to honor him. The church, where he had been its eldest member, was filled with family and friends who came to do the same.
Thank you, meu Padrinho, for being a part of my life.