Julia R Davidson

November 1, 1932 to September 30, 2024

Julia R. Davidson Plasencia, age 91, of Miami, Florida passed away on Monday, September

30th, 2024.

Julia was born in Santiago de las Vegas, Cuba to Mario and Consuelo and was the youngest

of three girls, Alicia (Tete), Leyda (Yeya) and of course Julia (Yuya). She grew up spending

the summers at the beach in Santa Fe with her cousins and sisters fondly entertaining us with

tales of their adventures. She went on to pursue her professional career at the University of

Habana graduating with a degree in pharmacy in 1954.

She married her first husband, Jorge Denis in 1956, a union that produced two children,

George and Julie. Forced to leave her homeland in 1967, they settled in Miami, Florida,

where she worked hard, along with Jorge, to provide a new life for her children. In the years

to follow, she met and married her second husband, Dr. Oscar W. Davidson, forming a new

family along with Oscar’s sons, Alex and Johnny.

Julia reestablished her pharmacy career by completing all requirements necessary to obtain

her license as a registered pharmacist. She went on to work in her chosen field until her early

70s at Bascom Palmer Eye Institute where she made lifelong friends, including Amy, Maritza,

and Steve.

Julia traveled the world; you name the place, she had already been there, for she loved

learning about new cultures. A lover of wine and good food, laughter and jokes. Her dry

humor was legendary but always dignified.

Her grandchildren, who called her Aba, were her pride and joy – Joel, Bryant, Steven and

George. But nothing made her happier than meeting her two great-granddaughters – Emilia

and Federica. Towards her later years, she added another new love in her life - a mean, old,

stray orange tabby named Ginger.

Julia will always be remembered for her zest for life, her uncanny ability to always tell it like it

is and never ever mince words, whether you liked it or not. Her advice, mind you, was always

solid. We can write volumes about her life – but, if she were here today to tell us herself, she

would probably say – “ustedes saben que esas cosas no me gustan.”

Mami/Aba, you will be missed but never ever forgotten. You were and will remain in our

hearts forever more.

We love you.