Winston James "Jimmy" Nunez, Jr--My Daddy

I have thought about this post for several days, knowing that a blog about our newborn baby boy would not be complete without honoring my Daddy's memory and talking about his passing. I had the most wonderful rewarding experience of my life and had my heart broken less than two days later. I've shared many stories about my Dad, and many of my friends have met him, too. So many people have reached out to console us--I've received countless cards, messages and emails and I know even more are keeping us in their thoughts and prayers as my family and I learn to live a different life without our compass. Below is something that I wrote and shared at the Rosary and viewing. The other passage is the eulogy that our Pastor and family friend, Father Ron, read at Daddy's funeral. These will give even more insight into the great man my Father was.

My Daddy

While I knew that someday I could be faced with the moment of deciding if I would speak at my dad’s funeral, I never expected it to be this soon. I would like to say that I made the choice to speak here tonight on my own accord. However, I know my Daddy has been right beside me these past three days and in his own way, encouraging me to share some special thoughts with all of you. Because he knows this is one way that I grieve and cope, to write and share. I could go on for hours about him but I’m going to try and keep it brief for your sakes. We had a very special relationship. He looked forward to getting my birthday cards and Father’s Day cards in the mail because I almost always wrote a lengthy message inside them; he would pull out his reading glasses before even opening the card. So I guess the thing to say now is Daddy, pull out your reading glasses.

There are so many things I can say about him. I could talk to you about how much he loved the weather. He had his own rain gauge and wind meter, and one of my favorite things to do would be to call him and ask, “What’s the weather going to be like?” When I used to travel for work, he would even give me forecasts for all the cities I was traveling to. He was awed by storms, and as severe as Hurricane Rita was, he was fascinated by it.

Many of my favorite recent memories surround his trips to Austin to visit me. If you know my Daddy, you know a few other things about him: he’s quite the handyman, he doesn’t like to sit still, and he loves margaritas. It’s amazing how he could go from jogging on Town Lake, to painting or doing other home projects to help us out, to finishing off the night with margaritas and Mexican food, his favorite.

Several years ago my Daddy taught me to run, running backwards in front of me for the first mile, encouraging me the whole way. I never go on a jog that I don’t think about my father because he is such a part of the reason I run. We shared the ups and downs of running and understood what the other person was going through. He faithfully ran at Ebenezer Park, which is out on Sam Rayburn Lake. He ran there for so many years that he liked to call the park his own.

Christmas is always one of my favorite times of the year, and though he never would have said it like I would, I think it was one of his favorite times as well. Ever since Brent and I were little, we had a family tradition of making Christmas sugar cookies together, and more recently, Dad and I were the great team that frosted the cookies. He loved hearing me sing beside him at Christmas Mass, and Silent Night was his favorite. Once my Paw Paw passed away, my dad played Santa Claus at our Memaw’s house to a lot of the kids you see here tonight and some of their parents.

I have very fond memories of being at Crystal Beach with my whole extended family. Many summers in the past, there were Domecs, Nunezes, Dupuis, Jennusas, Breauxs and many others together sharing the same beach. We have such a big family, with so many people for us to love. My Daddy enjoyed it all: playing volleyball with family, jogging on the beach, sitting in the shade reading his paper, drinking a beer and listening to the waves at Crystal Beach.

Growing up, there were times when I thought my dad was too set in his ways, but there were many signs recently that caused me to see a different side of my dad. I know in the last 15 years or so I have seen him soften his stances on a few things. He swore off treadmills early on, but he eventually purchased one at my mom’s request and learned to enjoy running on it regularly when he couldn’t get to Ebenezer Park. He never liked exotic foods, but in recent years he let Brent and me introduce him to many new cuisines. The most significant change has been his relationship with the church. Recently he started attending Bible studies and helping out at church functions, and last year he became a Eucharistic minister.

He always has had a soft spot for me. However, I think that soft spot had grown tremendously to reach out to other people and places. And I saw this right up until the day he died. We don’t know what the reports will show on my dad’s condition; I believe that his heart just burst with joy, an overwhelming amount of joy. He had the opportunity to meet his first grandson who was named after him, came 11 days early with twin toes like my Daddy and me for the occasion. And he had his family around him, he felt good, looked good, and was doing one of the things he loved when he died. How many people can say that?

God made his heart just right and just open enough that He could receive him into his kingdom. And while we’ll never fully understand why this happened, my heart will take comfort in knowing that my Daddy died happy, jogging all the way to Heaven.

Here is the eulogy that was shared at the funeral on January 24:

It is not easy for us to find the right words to say at a funeral; it is especially difficult at this one. Usually the most we can manage to say is: “You have my deepest sympathy.” But these words seem to inadequate to express what we feel in our hearts.

This morning, as we gather to celebrate the life of Jimmy Nunez, we are very personally aware of how mysterious our lives are. We have so many questions we would like answers to: Why? Why Jimmy? Why this? Why now? But these answers lie hidden with God, and so for all of us, the mystery remains. Today we gather to mourn the absence of Jimmy among us, this Church where he and Connie worshipped together so often, this Church where they were extraordinary Ministers of the Eucharist, this Church where Brandi and Brent received the Sacrament of Confirmation and we ask those “why” questions about the meaning of events in Jimmy’s life, questions about the meaning of human life and death. For this sudden and unexpected death of Jimmy makes us ask those questions with more intensity and urgency.

But we can’t help but be uplifted by the Scripture readings which Connie and her children chose for this Mass of Jimmy’s Resurrection. In the reading from the Book of Revelation, we hear the consoling words: “I, John, saw a new heaven and a new earth.” Jimmy is seeing that very sight at this moment for St. John reminds us that “God will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning…for the old order has passed away.” Then St. John goes on to tell us: “Behold, I make all things new.” Jimmy is a new creation right now enjoying the rewards he so richly deserves.

As we remember Jimmy, a man of laughter, life, and love, we keep thinking: “It doesn’t make any sense for us to be here this morning.” For Jimmy seemed to be in perfect health. He went jogging almost every day. He wasn’t overweight. He always ate healthy and 62 is NOT old! He was so in love with Connie. I remember once at a priests meeting we were discussing marriage at a round-table discussion and one of the priests asked: “Are there any really happy marriages in your parish?” I immediately said yes for I instantly thought of Connie and Jimmy. They were always together, here in church praying together, exercising their ministry as Eucharistic Ministers, at St. Raymond’s where they frequently attended Mass on Friday mornings and always attended Mass and Stations of the Cross during Lent. To all of us who knew and love them, we knew they were so very much in love. And that’s why when I got back to the parish on Thursday afternoon from our priests retreat and Regina told me Jimmy had died that morning while jogging in Austin, I simply could not believe it. And I still don’t have the right words to say to you today.

But there is one in our midst today who does have the right words for this gathering, one who is most able to speak to hearts full of sorrow. That one is Jesus, the one who spoke to us a moment ago in the Gospel when he told us: “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” Throughout his life, Jesus put people’s fears to flight by His preaching and teaching and healing. And because His words and deeds filled people’s hearts with faith, there was less room for fear. After His resurrection, Jesus continued to put fear to flight. And today, Jesus gives us the way and the means to calm our fears and to steady our hearts when He says, “You have faith in God; have faith also in me.”

Such faith does not remove our sorrow at Jimmy’s death. But faith gives us this assurance: for Jimmy and for all those made in the divine image, God’s mercy is everlasting.

We come to know God’s love for us most completely in Jesus Christ. For we just heard in our first Scripture reading from the Book of Wisdom that “the just man, though he die early, shall be at rest…for He who pleased God was loved.” Jimmy was a just man. He did indeed please God. The writer of of the Book of Wisdom reminds us that “having become perfect in a short while, he reached the fullness of a long career; for his soul was pleasing to the Lord.” Being Jimmy’s pastor these past 25 years, I know how pleasing he was to the Lord. And that’s why I know love is stronger than death. For that love is God’s eternal gift to those God makes his own in baptism. We are made in the image of the living God, and death—no matter when or how it comes—cannot erase that divine image from us. God holds us in life and in death because God never lets us go. Death has no power to snuff out the life of God that God shared all these years with Jimmy. Our faith affirms that we possess within ourselves the seed of eternal life. Our faith unites us with Jimmy; it overflows into an ocean of hope that Jimmy has found true life in God. This faith affirms what we shall soon pray during this liturgy, namely: “Lord, for your faithful people, life is CHANGED, not ENDED.” You and I know well how faithful Jimmy was to the Lord and to His Church. Therefore we know that Jimmy’s life has not ended but has only changed. For in death, Jimmy’s mortal life is changed, but it remains HIS life, with all the circumstances and aspects of his life.

I met with Connie, Brandi, and Brent on Saturday afternoon and I listened as they reminisced about Jimmy. They told me no matter where they went, He would scout out the area and find a place where he could go jogging. He loved to mow the lawns and always took pride in the lawn around his home, their camp, and the Rayburn Superette. Whenever he saw a lawn that wasn’t properly cared for or properly edged, he would wonder why those people didn’t take better care of what God has created for us and shared with us. His favorite meal was breakfast and he so enjoyed going out with the parishioners after Sunday morning Mass for breakfast together. And when they were traveling he could almost always find a Red Lobster to dine at. He made friends with everyone and nurtured those friendships over many years.

When he was a teenager, he began delivering newspapers from his bike and he had quite a long paper route. But years after, he would remember all the people he delivered papers to and could tell you exactly where they lived. He could probably even tell you if they paid on time. He enjoyed the beach where he and Connie took their family every summer for vacation. He was always neat and liked things being in order for he thought everything had a place and everything should be in its place. He worked for many years at Texaco as a pipefitter and then 26 years ago he and Connie moved their family to Rayburn Country where he owned and operated the Rayburn Superette. His employees greatly respected him for his sense of humor, his honesty, and his integrity. He enjoyed work and always worked hard but never considered it work, for he enjoyed interacting with people. When Jimmy’s dad died, Jimmy inherited the role of Santa Claus by giving out gifts every Christmas to the 50 or more family members that gathered for the family Christmas. Jimmy loved making others happy and he did it so well and so often. Brandi remembers always calling her Dad, asking his advice and his opinion on so many events in her life. How fitting that Jimmy was there when his first grandson, Everett, was born there in Austin late Tuesday evening. What a great grandfather Jimmy would have been!

But these memories are such a small part of who Jimmy was. Each of you have memories you could share with us that would bring both laughter and tears to our eyes, for Jimmy was a complex man who touched the lives of countless numbers of people. Jimmy brought joy to our lives. He was a Christian to the core of his being and that’s why we know a marvelous change is now taking place in Jimmy, for Jesus has prepared a place for Jimmy in His Father’s house. That place will surely have all the warmth and familiarity of the home that Jimmy shared with his family. In Jimmy’s new home, God’s mercies are never-ending.

Today, the heaviness of our hearts cannot be hidden from Jesus; yet He invites us to do what we are called to do whenever we celebrate the Eucharist. He says: “Lift up your hearts.” Jimmy’s heart was formed by the faith of his family and by the parishioners of this parish. Such was the heart that Jimmy lifted up to God in his love for Connie, Brandi and Daniel and Everett and Brent, in his prayers and in his generosity.

Jesus says: “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” These life-giving words can calm our hearts and fill them with faith, not fear; with hope, not despair; with love, not bitterness. For today Jesus walks with us on our road of sadness and confusion and assures us of His loving presence. This Eucharist that we offer for Jimmy is the meal of Christ’s presence, the meal that Jimmy shared with us so frequently. And because Jesus is Lord of the living, Jimmy lives with Jesus in our Father’s house for all eternity. Jimmy, one day we will see you there! Keep the lawns mowed till we get there!