I call this Alberto and Mark's great electrical repair.  Early in our relationship I was visiting the Gonzalez family in Libertyville, Illinois.     They had bought a new house and there were still some things to be finished, such as the wires hanging out of the ceiling in the basement.  Alberto was ready for work when I showed up. He brought me downstairs and showed the ceramic fixture he wanted me to connect for him on the basement ceiling.  It all looked pretty easy.  He handed me a screwdriver and I started up the ladder with the fixture in my hand.  I placed the ceramic fixture on the top of the ladder and looked up at the hanging wires... The thought occurred to me that the power to the circuit should be shut off before I touched anything.   I yelled across the room to Alberto, who if memory serves, had placed himself quite a ways away, whether he had turned off the electricity to the circuit.  "Yes," he said.  I started to reach for the wires, but stopped myself  and decided to test them for power.  I arced the screwdriver across the two wires and POOF/BOOM!  A huge flash of light and funny crackling sound, and I jumped off the ladder.  I thought something had exploded.  I looked down at the screwdriver in my hand, and it had lost about an inch of its shank.  "Good grief!" I thought.  I yelled at the surprised Alberto, "you're trying to kill me!"  Well, he wasn't trying to do that.  But I had found another man who was as bad at home repairs as I was.

The second story has to do with a medical experiment my mother-in-law Celerina was attempting to publish in a medical journal.  I remember this as "Celerina's electrical experiment."  It had to do with the movement of a little studied muscle in the ankle or foot, as I remember.  
So, Diana, Celi and I went to her lab where she had set up the equipment to test this muscle.  She had me go first, I remember, probably saying something like you're the man or something like that.  She attached electrodes to my foot and ankle and told me to just lie still.  She said it wouldn't hurt.  Hmmm...   
It did hurt!  It was an electrical shock after all!  She was very serious about this whole thing.  I remember Diana and Celi giggling at my reactions, until Celerina wired them to the machine.  Then it was a different story!  haha.  Celerina had to offer them treats, oranges, I think, to make them continue the torture.  

There are two memories that stand out about Celerina, my mother in law.  I will call one the Pegajosos and the other I remember as Celerina's electrical experiment.

Before Celi and I were married, when we were in the first stages of smitten, I drove to Libertyville from Minneapolis and  stayed at the Gonzalez's home for a couple nights.  Because we hadn't seen each other for a while, we of course being pretty smoochy, hand holding, etc.  I do remember that Celerina kept coming down stairs to the family room where we were and asking if we wanted orange juice.  Hmmm,  no.
The next morning, Celerina woke me up and asked if I wanted some Cuban coffee.  I love coffee and said said of course.  I got up and was sitting in the kitchen, watching  her get things together, when she suddenly turned around and said to me, "Pegajoso!"  As she said this, I seem to remember a big wooden spoon in her hand waving ominously around.  
"Pegajoso?"  I didn't know what that meant, but could tell that Celerina was angry!  I asked her what she meant, and she told me, "sticky!  You are sticking to Tita! And I don't like it!"  

Now I got it, Celi and I were acting too chummy.  After we were married, for years, I used to ask Celerina if I was still a "pegajoso."  She would laugh and say "yes!"  We shared this joke  between us until she died.



I remember how kind Abuelo was to give me weekly Spanish lessons over the phone when I was pregnant with Lucia.  I still have my notes from our conversations, and they make me smile whenever I look at them and want to brush up on the Spanish language.

I could always talk to him for a long time without getting bored!! He had the best life stories and told them with such intrigue! And I really appreciated his honesty about everything.  It was refreshing to have someone I respect speak their mind when most of my encounters were with passive aggressive Minnesotans. 

As my wedding anniversary approaches, I am reminded of the beautiful love he had toward your bride of 69 years.  It is my hope and prayer that Jordan and I will be able to be such a shining example of love and care just as he and Celerina have been for many other people.


Abuelo's passion for medicine and radiology inspired me to be passionate about my own work in pathology.  I will miss talking to him about career advice and everything from medical progress to current research.   I can only hope to be as successful in my own career as he was in his.  Thank you abuelo for providing the best example I could hope to follow as a physician, and for the love, support and great conversations you shared with me over the years. 

One thing that I thought about a lot when I was a medical resident was how Abuelo and Abuela had to learn everything and do training, residency and practice in Cuba, and then had to train all over again and do medicine in a different culture and language when they were in their 50s. It was hard enough for me to do it once! How they were able to accomplish this while raising two teenage daughters and adjusting to living in the United States is something I will always be in awe of. Plus, they still did a great job parenting!  It shows that they were committed to being great doctors while being great parents as well, which couldn't have been an easy balance and speaks well of both of them.

One of the memories I would like to share of my father-in-law Alberto revolves around the time Celi decided she would in fact, marry me, and that I had to tell her father, Alberto.  

In retrospect, I should've asked him if it was ok to marry Celi, but being Mark, I decided that the next time I visited Alberto and Celerina (Celi's mom), in Libertyville, I would make this announcement.  I didn't really think much about this beforehand.

So the next time I was in Libertyville, eating lunch with Celi and her parents, I kept looking for a good place to jump into Alberto's conversation which consisted mostly of medicine, and advice for Celi about her medical school.

Finding no convenient place in the family's conversation to segue  into talk of marriage, when Alberto paused for a minute in his advice giving to Celi, I just blurted out,  "Celi and I are going to get married!"  Clang!!!  Alberto dropped his silverware on his plate with a crash and said, "you can't!"   I was petrified!   As I said, looking back, I should have asked him if it was ok.  Now what?

I asked him why I couldn't marry his daughter, and he said, "She might get pregnant!  She'd have to quit medical school...."

Well, I don't remember what was said after that, at  dinner, but Celi and I did get married and we have been married 42 years now. 


Celerina in her kitchen. That is one of my first memories of Celerina, from when I went down with Diana to their townhouse in Libertyville to “meet the parents.”  Pans everywhere, not a recipe in sight. The food was wonderful, and she had a smile the whole time she was cooking.  Some of my favorite dishes from her kitchen were chicken salad, eye round roast with olives and eggs in the middle, plátanos fritos (sweet fried plantains), and of course, black beans and rice.  Growing up a Minnesotan with traditional midwestern dinners,  I had never had tasted black beans and rice, or fruit salad that was just fresh fruit.  When the cooking of the meals was passed on to the next generations, it was fun to watch Celerina teach Annie how to fry up the plantains, again with a smile on her face.

I liked seeing how Celerina enjoyed her grandkids. You could literally see the joy each of her grandchildren brought her.  Her face would light up when she saw them, and she’d get down on the floor and play with them, and laugh.

I remember going to Hinsdale Baptist Church in Illinois one time with her, and I saw how she enjoyed talking to her church friends. It showed me how important it was to her to be part of a Christian community, both in Illinois and when she moved up here and became a part of her little church in Coon Rapids.  More than one time, when she could sense that I was struggling with something, she would say to me, “Trust in the Lord.”  It wasn’t a preachy “trust in the Lord,” it was just affirming. And she was right…that was good advice, Celerina!

My father was an upright, generous and determined man.  As a child we saw him more when we were on vacation as he worked long hours.  He liked to see new places and we went all over Cuba with him. He  loved to take us to the beach. We went to the pretty beaches near where we lived and also every summer to Varadero Beach, the most beautiful beach I have seen,  which was very fun. He taught me how to swim there . He also showed us the black sand beach, Bibijagua, in the island where he grew up. 
He was a very social person and loved parties. We went to parties in Cuba at his friends houses where there were people of all ages. 
When we came to the US and right up to the last few months of his life, he kept up with his many friends and also with all of my mom's and his extended family.  I would get all the family news from him. 
He wanted his children and grandchildren to excel in their studies and careers and expected the most out of each one. He strove to teach his grandchildren Spanish with ever changing approaches. He loved lists and had comprehensive ones until he became too feeble to do them anymore.  He was very generous and helped people monetarily throughout his long life until the very end. 
He loved his wife, and when she could no longer cook, he learned how at age 88.  His approach to cooking was sometimes novel, such as when he was cracking eggs with a rock that my mother had used as a paperweight in the kitchen.  He took care of her faithfully until her end. 
During his last few months, the one thing that brought a smile to his face was seeing photos of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  He loved them very much and was very interested in all their doings right up until the end. 
Love him and miss him dearly. 


My earliest memories of my mom are indistinct ones of her love, hugs and kisses.  She was a loving mom and gentle disciplinarian.  She did have a sure fire last resort discipline tool : "your father does not want you to do x".  That got her immediate obedience. It was not until I was a young adult that I realized that my dad had not cared about any of those issues! He was busy working. 
She took us all over Cuba to visit relatives . My grandfather's farm was particularly fun and I really liked all the farm animals and one of the dogs , a cute small Collie . The occasional horse back ride was both exciting and frightening.  Meeting up with many aunts, uncles and cousins was also very fun. We also went to Havana and that was fun also, a much larger city than ours.  
Castro came. My mother told all the family right away  that he was a  communist. I mentioned that Castro was bad and my dad gently told me I was wrong.  I was 5. I knew my mom must be right and I kept my mouth shut about Castro afterwards. 
My mom was generous with her time, talent and money. There was a poor widow, Vinda , whom my mom supported with food and clothing,  She told me, as an example of horrible behavior, that this woman's daughter was financially able to help her mother but would not. 
She was very sad to leave her husband behind when we came to the US. As a thoughtless 14 year old, I didn't realize that he might not ever come until she told me so.  She worked hard at her internship at age 50 and eventually passed all the tests. She was a hard worker and tried to inculcate that in her daughters. She dispensed advise about God, child raising, sun avoidance and food. 
She loved her grandchildren, who were a delight to her and loved to cook for them and dispensed candies out of her purse for them.  
The great-grandchildren came when she was already 90 and she was also delighted with them. 
Love you always 



I will always remember family vacations with the Abuelos. Abuela had such a zest for life, and she always enjoyed our trips so much. Whether it was seeing the sights at Yellowstone or Itasca, or simply a chance to spend time with one of the grandkids, she was always enjoying the moment with a spark in her eye. And Abuelo might have tried to appear more restrained, but when they were together you knew he was just as happy  being in the presence of his beloved wife as they spent spent time together with the grandkids they both loved.

I have many good memories of Alberto.  At Christmas, he was always very generous with monetary gifts, but the things I always looked forward to the most were the gadgets. The top gadget gift was the nose hair trimmer, but we also got a road hazard kit, the Sears locking pliers, a travel shaving kit, and a very practical battery operated Black & Decker screwdriver.
 
I was always impressed by Alberto’s thorough knowledge of medicine. No matter what disease was mentioned, it seemed Alberto always knew what it was. And just as impressive, he loved medicine so much that he wished he could have worked longer, even though he stayed active for so many years.

The time we got to spend with him at the end of his life was really meaningful to us. He was very appreciative of the care that we were able to give him and the family dinners we were able to have.  He was not a man to give out compliments, so it was high praise when he said he felt like he was eating at a five-star restaurant (particularly when we made Cuban food or pasta with shrimp).  We also enjoyed his stories of Isle of Pines, and his eyes still lit up when he talked about his career in medicine, whether it was in Cuba or in the United States.
 


My mother had great faith and, until her later years, never seemed to run out of energy.  I liked knowing that I could depend on her for practical help and prayers.  But what meant the most to me was the love she showed us in big and little ways. One of my memories of my mom was when I was little and we were walking back from going to the farmer’s market, which to me seemed so far away.  My mom, as always, was wearing the midheight high heels that always looked so cute on her small feet. I looked at my mom and complained that my legs hurt.  I don't think we were that far from home, but instead of telling me that we only had a short ways to walk, my mom swooped me up in her arms and carried me home.  I am sure I was very pleased! 

Even when she was in her 90s, my mom still was telling me to get some rest if I looked tired, or taking a candy out of her purse if she thought I needed a snack. 

She loved to sew for us from the time we were little. When we came to the United States, in spite of all the work and time required to learn a new branch of medicine and get a driver's license, she somehow found the time to sew. I loved going to the fabric shop with her, looking at the fabrics and browsing through patterns.  She could sew anything from a simple dress to bridesmaid dresses.  My favorite was a beautiful deep red wool coat with silver buttons that I wore whenever I wanted to feel truly dressed up.  I still think of my mom whenever I walk into an old-fashioned fabric shop, with its rolls of fabrics, buttons and lace. 

My mom, “mami” to my sister and me, loved to read her Bible, and preferred the old poetic versions of the Bible, the Reina Valera in Spanish and King James in English.  She loved the Psalms.  Among her favorites were Psalm 27, because the Lord was her light and her salvation, Psalm 125 which says those who trust in God are like Mt. Zion, unmovable; and of course, the classic Psalm 23rd. She relied on God to be her rock and defense when life got a little bumpy, and taught us to do the same. 

Love you and miss you always

One Thanksgiving I was sitting and chatting with Abuelo in the living room before the meal. I learned about his grandfather’s land on the Isle of the Pines, the time he played the saxophone with his 6th grade band in front of the president of Cuba, and how he would read pages of medical texts and be able to remember all the information. 

All of this was so interesting to me, and I couldn’t believe I was just learning about it for the first time. But Abuelo was very humble and the way he told these stories was very matter of fact, so I can see how it took so long for him to bring those things up! Although he might not have known it, I think Abuelo got more and more interesting by the day as we learned about the fascinating life he had!

When Abuela would babysit us growing up, I remember a game where my brothers and I would have to run through the hallway and abuela was the sea monster. She would try to catch us and wrap us up in her arms, and she was quite successful at usually catching one of us! Whenever we played the game there was so much laughter, and I think for that reason it has stuck with me as a very happy childhood memory.

I remember Abuela keeping a small New Testament Bible with her, and that she had it at every family gathering. This was later on in her life, so she was speaking almost only in Spanish. But as she held that Bible firmly in her hand, she was always able to tell me in English to trust in the Lord and he will do good. I think that memory has stuck with me most of all, because for her to hold on to that little bit of English to give that message of faith shows how much it meant to her. And I can hold that in my mind as I live with that trust in God for the rest of my days.


From the time we were little, my dad was always very generous to us. I don't know how he and my mom managed to get shiny new toys or a bike in Cuba, where toy stores were so barely stocked, but we always had gifts for birthdays and Christmas. Not only was he financially generous, but he had a generosity of spirit: I think he enjoyed watching us open or use a gift more than if he'd gotten something for himself. Later, when he could no longer travel, he enjoyed helping a little with the cost of a vacation or a trip to a family wedding.

I really enjoyed listening to my dad, always "papi" to us, talk about childhood days in Isle of Pines. A few years ago, we were sharing some lemon drops after a weekday dinner, and he was telling me how fun it was to get lemon cookies or other snacks from the street vendor who set  up shop just outside his school. It set us on a reminiscing journey about hearing the cries of the "Manisero" (peanut vendor) through the streets of Holguin, selling delicious warm peanuts in a paper cone. My dad missed the warmth and friendliness of Cuba, and the way people sat on their porches in the evening to escape the heat. But he never regretted leaving to make sure his daughters could live in a free country.

My dad was not a naturally patient man, and he liked to be waited on. But when my mom could no longer do the cooking and the wash, my dad did not hesitate to start doing anything and everything necessary to take over her chores and take care of my mom. He called his sister-in-law Taca to get recipes. I didn’t truly understand how clueless he was in the kitchen until one afternoon  he called me to ask how to get the ice cubes out of the ice cube tray. He wasn’t sappy and hardly ever said how much he loved his Celerina, but he showed us by example the meaning of true love.

Love you and miss you, papi.

Abuelo was beyond intelligent, full of grit, never to be crossed yet easily softened (this came with age), incredibly generous, dependable, and unintentionally hilarious in many things he did and said. When Abuela started to decline due to her dementia, Abuelo made a point to remind us of her intelligence and quick mind. He was loyal to the end, and took care of her, even when that was not in his nature. His words carried weight. He never gave praise unless it was warranted, but gave plenty of honest feedback which has more than prepared me for a career in the medical field. When he was in the emergency room in his late 90s, he corrected the physician who was reading the x-ray for him- pointing out the details that had been missed.

He was the first to know about both the big and the small things.
After being accepted into medical school, he was naturally the first I called. We kept in weekly contact, from visits to emails, to letters, to facetime. He was a constant presence and will be so missed.

At the end of the day, he said it best "waiting to see you soon and with great love, I say hasta luego." 
Muchos cariños de tu nieta my abuelo

It's hard to describe how much we all miss Abuela. She was a constant presence throughout my life, and I couldn't ask for a better woman to call "my Abuela." I will never forget our weekly Spanish-English lessons to her valiant efforts to make a seamstress/Cuban cook out of me.  She was known well by all of my childhood friends. I remember one night, our family had abuelos and a friend of mine, Stephanie, over. My friend said politely "no thank you" when she was offered the steak my mother had prepared. Abuela quickly turned to her, grabbed the plate with steak, and while pushing it towards Stephanie yelled "Meat?! Meat!" Until Stephanie finally gave in.  One just could not say no to Abuela- a 4’10” woman one would never cross. 

She was generous, intelligent, kind, and firm. As a kid and an adult, I loved making her laugh because it was so contagious. She will forever be a role model for me- in her career, her family life, and her walk with the Lord.  

We miss you and cannot wait until we are reunited again. 
Tu nieta Anita 

One random memory of Abuela (Celerina) I have is that when she would come over to baby sit us, she would make us Mac and cheese and put pepper on it. I disliked this as a child, but now as an adult it brings me fond memories of her. 

She was quieter than Abuelo, but about twice as fierce.  Where Abuelo was concerned about our life long goals, Abuela was concerned about our souls. When her voice was going, she would grab you with an unexpectedly strong grip to pull you in where only you could hear her. She then would whisper, "I'm praying for you," like she knew that you especially needed it, and give you the biggest smile.

I miss you, Abuela

Abuelo always had our best interests at heart. When we were children, the Abuelos had Jordan and I over for a weekend at his townhome, which was exciting since he had cable TV. We slept in and lounged around all morning watching TV, being pretty much useless. Seeing that we were wasting the day, Abuelo had a firm word with us that he did not have us over so we could watch TV all day. He promptly sent us to work in the yard.  Now as a parent myself, I appreciate his sentiment even more. 

He never shied away from work himself. He came over weekly throughout our childhood to teach us Spanish and chess (with varied success). In his early 80s, he helped my dad, brother, and I carry a 200 lb TV into the basement.  I think the first time I beat him at arm wrestling was when I was 15 and he was 82. He set a hard working example for all his grandchildren.  

I wouldn't be in my current profession if it wasn't for Abuelo. He is the one who first suggested I should become a Pharmacist when I was still wondering what I should do my second year in undergrad. He brought it to my attention in typical Alberto fashion, holding a list of medical professions, he told me, “Peter, I think you would be good at pharmacy, and look how much they make". I will forever miss his straight forward advice, you never had to wonder what he was thinking as he was quick to tell you.  I miss you, abuelo.



Abuela always had small, individually wrapped caramel squares for us when we were kids. Whenever I see small caramels I still think of her.  
When we were kids, Abuela would always make harina (sweet corn meal).  We sweetened it with brown sugar and she never seemed to mind how much we put on!
Abuela had a faith of great depth. Later in her life, Abuela would tell me that she was praying for me every time we saw each other.


I remember how petite in stature Abuela was but it would not have surprised me if she could in fact move mountains due to her strong faith in God.  I always felt blessed talking with her and knowing she was always praying for me.
And I’ll never forget how excited Abuela was the day she came to visit newborn Lucia- her first great-grandchild.  It was quite the sight to see our ninety-year-old abuela quickly scamper across the lawn as soon as she got out of the car.
Last of all, Abuela taught me how to fry plantains,  and for that I am forever grateful.

I loved going to the old country buffet with abuelo and abuela. It was a great place to go as a kid and we had a great time as a family. I remember one time, we went to an old country buffet that we had never been to before. Abuelo started asking one of the servers what designer had designed the patterns on the chairs we were sitting in. It was very funny to see the reaction of the server because they had never heard a question like that. 

My favorite memory of abuelo and abuela is when I was 12 years old and went to their house for abuelo to teach me to play pool. Abuelo, being very detail oriented, started off by teaching me how to properly chalk the pool cue. This lesson on how to chalk a pool cue continued for at least ten minutes. About halfway through the lesson, I started looking over at my mom and abuela and rolling my eyes and abuela laughed. Abuela had the best smile in the world and abuelo loved teaching us.

Private Family Service

Survived by daughters Celerina
(Mark) and Diana (Roger), grandchildren Jordan (Kelle )), Peter (Mandy), Annie
(Rowan), Mark, Andrew (Katie) and Daniel, and three greatgrandchildren

OBITUARIO

Alberto and Celerina Gonzalez

7 agosto, 1919 – 20 enero, 2021

Gearhart Funeral Home

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