| Memorial Service January 22, 2002  Prayer: 23rd Psalm The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.
He wouldn’t want us to mourn his
death Here are some thoughts and condolences from friends and relatives who couldn’t be here: Jack Nagy wrote: Tony was such a caring person. It seems like every time we were together he always wanted to know if I was okay. If I had enough to eat or drink. It was impossible to be unhappy in his presence. When he visited Chicago, I was driving an old international yellow Fiat. It did not run when I bought it but it was only $200 so I figured it had to be a good deal. I fixed the car, it broke down. I fixed it again. This happened several times. I told Tony the story during his visit. We both roared. I think he is the one that told me FIAT stood for Fix It Again Tony. We were like children driving around in that stupid car. Living in Canada has had a profound effect on me. I learned to appreciate the quality of life better, and heard voices that came from the heart. One of these was the voice of Tony Mauro. His niece Dianne wrote: It's Saturday the19th here (in Cuba) and I've just received your email. I feel very sad (and having a little cry, right here in the public email office in the city) as I'm sure everyone there does as well. We have all been expecting and bracing ourselves for this time, but still it's a shock and a great sense of loss. I would give just about anything to be at the service, but even if I tried to jump on a plane, there's no way IŽd be there in time. So I will have my own little time of remembrance on the 22nd. Thanks for letting me know and please extend my condolences to your mom and the rest of the family. I know that he would have received a great deal of comfort from having you all there for him. Elaina’s friend Valerie wrote: …Got that great picture out of your Mom and Dad at Judy's place. I really love that picture as it shows the great parents and happy couple they truly were together. An inspiration to us all. "Daddio" will be truly missed. I set the picture up on the kitchen table with a candle and talked away at the two of them for some time. Did my prayers, too. I get up and see them every morning. It will be a hard photo to put away again. Always humble, I believe he was a quietly spiritual man, a good friend to so many, a great Dad and loving husband to Jean. Your father saw my soul and I will always love him for that. Freidoon, a friend of Elaina’s wrote: I remember your father very well and found him a gentle, soft man who made me feel wanted and at ease at various functions I had met him. He was a blessed man who had beautiful and loving children and I was very aware of his generosity. Glenda and Dave Eno, friends of Pete wrote: Glenda and I consider ourselves very fortunate people to have had the pleasure of both your father's and mother's company. It is with fondness that I remember the golf games in Oliver, the mid-morning refreshments and eats, along with the laughs. Your father taught me that golf is a game to have fun at. I phoned our son Derek in Winnipeg, and he remembers the time that Ray and I took our sons golfing, and the best part for Derek was that Tony let him drive the golf cart. To be included in the Oliver happy hours at your folks place made us feel very special. I was always impressed in the way you and your father interacted. It was obvious to outsiders that there was a very deep mutual respect and love for each other. We honour the memories of your dad, and are thankful that we were part of the Mauro charm, and the warm feeling that your dad extended us, and I am sure everyone who came in contact with him. Finally, two nurturing little girls who were always looking out for Tony... Erin wrote: I'll always remember Uncle Tony, the kisses, the hugs, and my favourite, augers! I have lots of memories of old Uncle Tony. One of them was about two years ago, uncle Tony got his bathing suit on, he was going swimming with me. He stepped a little bit into the water, then putting his hands on his shoulders, said "Brrrrr, it's freezing!" I gave him a funny look, and gave him a big auger! Another memory of uncle Tony is going on a boat ride to the other side of the lake. My favourite part of it is seeing whose hand goes up first, usually it's uncle Tony's! Then Uncle Tony comes over and gives me a big kiss! Uncle Tony was very sick, I hope he will be happier in heaven. I have this vision of his sister saying, "What took you so long, Tony. I missed you!" And Alexandra wrote: Dear Grandpa Tony, I miss your big hugs. I feel sad when I think I won’t see you any more, but I’ll always remember you. You were the best grandpa anybody could have. Love, Alex I've been playing a song steadily for the past week because, somehow, it reminds me of dad, though I don't think he ever heard this version. I'd like to share it with you… Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a
Wonderful World (medley)
TOP OF PAGE Everyone here has precious memories of
Tony. I’d like to share some of mine with you. My first memory of Tony is at the East
6th House. I must have been three or four. Tony and I were in the
kitchen dancing and singing that old Italian classic, MacNamara’s
Band. The Mauro family moved to East Georgia in
1946 and as was the custom of the day, Tony, at that time unmarried,
lived at home with his parents. There were always many Italians either
visiting or living there. Tony became the darling of my grandparents’
friends, especially the Italian ladies who seemed to be always there
laughing, cooking and eating. He particularly endeared himself to my
Nana, Mrs Cicone, and Mrs. Doratzio by singing, dancing and modelling
his red long underwear. In 1948 Jean and Tony were married. And
until the birth of their first son, David, they lived with the Mauro
family on East Georgia. They moved into a wartime house on Dieppe Drive
and lived there with their ever increasing family until their retirement
to Oliver. It was a small house but I remember it filled with love and
laughter. The house on Dieppe drive was the location of the Mauro’s
Saturday night spaghetti dinner. Everyone was welcome and one could
always find an interesting assortment of Mexicans, Italians, Freemans
and Mauros. Every friend of the kids has had at least one Saturday night
dinner at Tony’s. Many were regulars for years. The smell of Tony’s
world famous spaghetti sauce, the warmth of Tony’s hospitality, and
the wonderful family dynamic are my most vivid memories of those
dinners. My father died when I was 12. The Mauro
family, my extended family, was always there to fill the gap. Tony was a
family man through and through. He was most attentive to his parents and
his siblings. He always found time from his busy work and his own family
to help out. When I wanted to learn to drive it was my Uncle Tony who
stepped into the breech and bravely provided the driving lessons. He was
truly fearless: I remember sliding out of control down the hill at
Dunbar and 25th, backwards, while Tony patiently explained the arcane
workings of a clutch and the relationship of the clutch to the brake. And then there was Oliver. Jean’s
brother Bob owned and managed Lakeside Resort in Oliver on the shores of
Lake Tuc-en-nuit. Tony and family started out spend their summer
vacations at Lakeside by tenting under canvas. The big breakthrough,
however, was the cabana, equipped with electricity, bunk beds and all
the mosquitoes one could want. It was in a cabana that that great summer
event – the Meatball Festival- began. I remember one summer, my family
and I were camping – and there out of the mist comes Tony on a bicycle
carrying a large bowl of meatball fixings. He was touring the campsite
soliciting guesses as to how many meatballs he would make. I like to
think that this was the start of the world's longest lasting contest.
From this humble beginning the meatball contest flourished. Soon there
were Meatball Princesses, Meatball Commissioners, t-shirts, bridge
games, cash and prizes. But always, there was Tony’s fabulous
meatballs. The Meatball Festival was held in Oliver
every August long weekend in celebration of Tony’s birthday on August
4 or 6th. All our family tries to gather there. The festivities were
most intense on Saturday when the golfers would venture forth at the
crack of dawn. The non-golfers would gather on the deck awaiting the
return of the golfers and busily ensuring that the beer was cold. The
day would culminate with The Dinner, meatballs and pasta, and the
announcement of the winners. If we were lucky there would be
entertainment: poems and stories like the Wide Mouth Frog, Casey at the
Bat, or The Salmon, or perhaps the Dick Family Dancers or the Vic and
Vee Players would perform. It was a time of good fellowship and good
times. In later years we added the Meatball festival Golf Tourney, and
the Meatball Festival wine tasting. Tony was always a gracious and
friendly host. Friends and family, regulars or one-timers were made to
feel welcome and a part of the family. Over the years, Oliver saw children born,
grow up and bring their own children. My daughters attended as children
and lately my grandchildren were fortunate to attend. Children were
always special at Oliver. Tony attracted every small child within sight.
He was a true kid magnet. I remember crowds of kids, the Dick girls, the
Cooper kids and anyone else swarming around Tony. When Charlotte Dick
was an infant, Tony would sit on the porch for hours fanning her cot and
protecting her from marauding flies. Tony always referred to his swarm
of kids as “rotten kids”. This endeared him even more to all. The
little kids would sneak up on Tony to give him an “auger” on his
rather large tummy. At Oliver, shorts, no shirt were de rigueur for
Tony. Tony liked to nap in his big recliner and while the kids were
small, it was not unusual to find Tony and one or more child napping in
the big chair in the living room. Tony kept Christmas well. Before my aunt
Nellie died, Tony and Jean would faithfully come for Christmas at her
house. Nellie was a tiny little thing but managed to evoke terror in all
of us. She would insist that one should drive for miles to a store where
coffee was on special. Never mind the time and the gas, if you could
save 3 cents that was enough. So many times Tony would try and cheat,
but Nellie always checked the bill and would accost him with a fierce
”TON-NIEE!” I missed having a father while I was
growing up, but I am most fortunate because I had a Tony. Tony was to me
the perfect example of a father and a husband. I count myself, my
children and my grandchildren so lucky because of the love we all
received from our Tony. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night Good men, the last wave by, crying how
bright Grave men, near death, who see with
blinding sight Mauro, Antonio, 84, died
peacefully on January 16, 2002. Much-loved by his wife Jean, sons David
and Peter (Kim), daughters Patricia (Keith) and Elaina, brother Vic (Vee),
grandchildren James and Julia, sister-in-law Edna, niece Judith, his
many other nieces and nephews, family and friends, Tony was born in
Nordegg, Alberta and raised and educated in Vancouver. A well-known
athlete, Tony was an all-star rugby and football player while attending
King Edward High School. He played for the Cougars Football Club in the
1930’s and was, in turn, player, coach and manager of the Carling’s
Pilsner softball team. In the 1960’s, he was also well known as an
umpire – working in leagues and tournaments around the province. At
the outbreak of World War II, Tony enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air
Force and served overseas with the 458 Squadron. Tony was an employee of
the Canadian Pacific Railway for over 35 years. In 1948, Tony married
the love of his life, Jean Freeman, and they provided a loving and
nurturing home for their four children. Tony spent many happy retirement
years in Oliver, B.C., where he enjoyed golf, his lakeside home, and
frequent gatherings of family and friends. A devoted husband, loving
father, loyal friend and neighbour, Tony’s intelligence, humour and
love of life will be deeply missed by all who had the great fortune to
know him. A memorial service was held in Vancouver on Tuesday, January
22. In lieu of flowers, a donation to the United Way would be
appreciated. |
