Eulogy for Alzada E. Cross

Saturday, Nov. 12, 2022

Good morning, everyone. We are here today to honor Alzada’s passing and to celebrate her wonderful life – a life that touched and inspired us in so many different ways.

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross wrote, “Death is nothing to fear. It can be the most wonderful experience of your life. It all depends on how you lived.”

For many years I didn’t understand why one would use the word “celebrate” when someone dies. However, after dad died, I began to understand why. It is easy for me today, to describe mom’s passing as a celebration of the wonderful life she lived…that to have spent a long life of 96 years lovingly devoted to her family and friends is an affirmation and celebration of her life.

At this moment I am thinking of mom’s 10 grandchildren and 7 great-grandchildren. This is a time for them to further appreciate Mom’s life and how her journey can help them in their own lives. The life that she led and the goals that she set were very intentional.

When mom first saw the love of her life, she was working at a local store in Fall River. She saw this young man playing a pin ball machine. She didn’t see his face at first, but only what she described as “those swinging hips.” Soon after, she started putting extra ice cream in his milk shakes. Well, it worked. Dad proposed to mom shortly after that.

Dad and mom were married on a Friday night on February 17, 1950, at the First Baptist Church in Fall River. Dad worked that day and at the end of the day was laid off from his job. He went home got dressed and arrived at the church. During the ceremony dad fainted and when he woke up, he was told that he was married. There has been a lot of speculation over the years as to whether he faked his fainting spell in the hopes of postponing the wedding, but mom made sure that when they left the church they were married.

They started their marriage with very little money and arrived at their new home, a run down, one-bedroom apartment, with hardly any furniture. They had to borrow a blanket because they didn’t have one and all they had in their kitchen was two forks and two spoons. That is how they began their life together.

For most of us, we might think that starting off a new marriage like this would not be our first wish. But with the love that they had for each other they were the happiest people alive. Although they didn’t have many possessions, they had a plan for their future. From that time on they executed their plan flawlessly. They pledged to each other that they would have a happy home with many happy children having fun and laughter in their daily lives.

What an incredible family life we have all had. All of my siblings have been so fortunate to have Mom in our lives for so long. Quite extraordinary, actually, for any family.

Mom had this way of making each of her children feel special. She provided us with the tools to lead a meaningful life and to be loving individuals. She was blessed to live a long life and thus witnessed her 10 grandchildren following in her footsteps and leading good lives.

We know that they were successful with their pledge, and the best part is that while they were alive, they realized their success. They worked hard to spend quality family time together, always putting family first.

To this day, all of her children and grandchildren made time to be with her. It wasn’t for any sense of obligation that they spent time with her, but for the constant love, laughter, tenderness, and warmth that she provided to all of them.

It was quite an experience living in such a small house with six kids, two parents, and only one bathroom. Mom and dad were a loving couple and expressed affection to each other every day. That was apparently why they had six kids.

Mom was very intelligent and, as you know, had a great memory. To give you an example of her extraordinary memory, not only did she know at 94 years old every birthday, month, day, and year of her children, but she also remembered each location in which these children were conceived!! (I put that in the eulogy just to see if you were paying attention)

She showed us how to respect all people and to be generous, helpful and kind to others.

Mom was always there for us. If you asked mom for some advice, usually her first words were “will it make you happy?” And when dad became ill and needed mom the most, without a thought or reservation, she was there for him doing her best to be his caregiver and his loving partner. She was always positive and hopeful about their future together and the lives of her children.

One worry that her children had when dad died was whether Mom would lose her zest for life. I asked her, one day after dad died, if she wanted to go to heaven soon, to be with Irving. To our joy she said she could wait. She was also worried that she would have a difficult time finding him in heaven. My brothers and I assured her that wouldn’t be a problem. All she will have to do is go to the local bar in heaven and find him playing cards, having a few beers.

We always tried to do something special for Mom. For many years after dad died, I would take her out each week for dinner and then go to play cards with her approximately 60 friends. The year before Covid she won the championship for top high low jack player. She was so very thankful each week. It was during this time that I began to hold her hand so that she wouldn’t fall, instantly having a flash back remembering when I was a young child with her holding my hand as we crossed the street, realizing then that our roles have been reversed.

What I did for her was small in comparison to what all my brothers and sisters did for her. As Mom got older and less self-reliant, she did not want to go to a nursing home. She never had to go a nursing home because my brother Brian, a very special person, took the unbelievable responsibility to be her caregiver 24/7. My sister Pam, being a nurse for almost 50 years, also took care of both dad and mom while working full-time at the hospital. It was just something to marvel, seeing them do what they did for their mother. When I think of heroes in my life, I think of them first for all their love, time, work, and devotion that they took. What an example for our grandchildren to witness.

All of our brothers, sisters, spouses, grandchildren, brothers-in-law, sisters-in-law, nephews, nieces, cousins, and friends have been the reason for our family’s happiness, and we will always be grateful.

I would like the grandchildren to never forget four words from this eulogy that I hope will benefit them as they continue on their life’s journey. Those four words are, “two forks, two spoons.” Pretty simple to remember, and by remembering these words it will remind you of what is really important in life — love and family.

I think I have laid out the case that we should not be sad for long and that we will continue to be a happy, close family just like mom and dad wanted us to be long after they were gone.

Mom, it is now time for you to be reunited with Irving. Let him know that the entire family is looking forward to many years of happiness because of the planting of the seeds that you both have provided.

I don’t think there has been many people who have been so loved as you have been. You could never have imagined that your life plan worked to perfection — you created the family of your dreams that you set out to have.

We love you Mom – forever. Our fond memories of you will be a comfort to us for the rest of our lives. And we will continue to be a strong family sharing our stories with much laughter. Laughter was and still is our center piece of affection that we have for each other.

At 2:40 a.m., this past Monday, Mom took her last breath. It was a surreal moment in our lives, and I will never forget Pam and Deborah lying in the bed with mom after she passed. Pam and Deb were exhausted and had closed their eyes along-side mom. Shortly after this the funeral director arrived. Brian and I were in the living room to greet her and her assistant. They expressed their condolences with Brian leading them to the bedroom. As they were about to enter the bedroom, and upon seeing my mom and two sisters laying in the bed, my brother says to them, “My mother is the one on the left.”

I don’t know if Brian was just trying to be helpful to the funeral director or was just reassuring his family that humor was still alive and well in our family.

Mom, your legacy will continue to remind us all how we should live our lives. We will always remember your warm hands and your warm heart.

You have provided us with a path for a wonderful life filled with love and happiness. You have shown us that to have a truly rich life, all you need is love and, don’t forget – you only need two forks and two spoons.

A Dip in the Pool

There we were – me in a wheelchair and Grammy moving at the same glacial pace.

With family frolicking in the pool, we both took the chance.

Neither of us remotely prepared for it, we ventured in anyway, fully clothed.

It was the first time for us both, and her face lit up.

She finally got to feel the cool water on her skin and enjoy an activity she would have normally missed out on.

I forever hold onto that day as something special, a memory I will always cherish in my heart.

Marooned Motorcycle Rescue

STORY #17

Irving was a kind and helpful person by nature, and during the hitchhiking craze of the 1960s–70s, he gave many different folks a lift. The most memorable and oft-told instance occurred in the summer of 1966.

It was early on a Friday evening and Irving was driving home from work at the New England power plant, when he spotted a young couple by the side of the road looking utterly bereft next to a motorcycle – and this was way before the age of cellphones, so they were really in trouble. They looked like real, live rough-and-tumble bikers, and anyone else would keep driving by, either too intimidated or just unwilling to assist.

Naturally, Irving stopped to help them, and concluded that their engine was kaput. They were near the Somerset Creamery, about ten minutes away from our house, so Irving told them to wait while he went home to switch cars. He asked our brother Steve (who was 16 at the time) to go back with him to help, and they loaded the defunct motorcycle into the big car and brought the couple back to our home in Swansea.

That’s when Irving learned that the couple were newlyweds traveling from New Jersey to Cape Cod for a honeymoon weekend. Irving believed them and their story and did what any normal person would NEVER do – he lent them our car so they could go.

It was clear that the motorcycle’s oil crankcase was cracked and gone and that they had blown the engine. So, when they asked Irving for a ride to the bus station, he looked at their sad faces and said, “Oh, just take our car,” and handed them the keys.

Overjoyed, the young man and woman thanked him profusely, tossed their backpacks in the trunk, and drove off. Watching them turn the corner and drive out of sight, Steve asked, “Dad, do you even know their last name?”

Dad reassured him, “Don’t worry; they’ll be back.”

When Alzada returned to find the car gone, all she could do in response to Dad’s story was mutter “Oh, Irving!”

But, sure enough, on Sunday evening, the couple pulled up to the house in our car, tired and happy – and with a full tank of gas. Alzada invited them in and they shared Sunday dinner with our family, during which our dog grabbed the meat right off the table, and they stayed with us that night, sleeping in a tent in our backyard.

For many years afterward they sent our family a Christmas card of thanks.

An Accidental Career

In 1944, aged 17 and newly graduated from Durfee High School, Alzada went to work at the Firestone Tire & Rubber Company, where she helped make gas tanks. Her schedule was rough – two weeks of day shifts followed by two weeks of night shifts –and she never got enough sleep but, somehow, she still managed an active social life (and plenty of dates).

Soon after, Alzada went to work at the real estate office of Pierre Ouelette, and just a few years later, she was working two jobs – as a sales clerk in the R.A. Wilcox stationery store and behind the soda fountain at the corner drugstore. It was in the drugstore, in 1949, at age 23, that Alzada met the man that would change her life — Irving Cecil Cross — my dad.

Alzada and Irving were married in 1950, and for almost 15 years, mom’s primary job was raising six kids.

Then, in 1964, nearly 40 years old, mom accidentally started a whole new career at Raytheon, an industrial military and commercial electronics manufacturer headquartered in Massachusetts.

“I had always talked about work,” Alzada said. “Irving worked as an electrician on construction, and he could go in one day and be laid off at any time if the job came to an end, and he could not afford to go on unemployment because we wouldn’t be able to survive with the kids.”

“I asked him if it would be helpful for me to work, [so that] if he got laid off, he could go on unemployment, and he always answered [with a] no. He didn’t want me to work.”

“But, when Dana was four years old, there was an ad in the paper, and I said – ‘Gee, Irving, can I go try to get this job? It’s working 4:30 to 11 at night. I would be with Brian and Dana all day and would be home early enough to be able to get up and take care of them the next day.’ – and he said OK.”

“He figured I wouldn’t get the job, that’s why he was so agreeable. But I went and I got the job and I worked there 20 years as a mechanical assembler.”

For 20 years my mom worked second shift so that she could watch the kids and keep up with housework during the day, and then prepare dinner for her hungry brood. I got to help her when I returned home from school in the afternoon, and then Dad would take over.

My mother said there were times early in their marriage when she and my father put two weeks’ rent down on an apartment with no idea where they would get the other two weeks’ rent. She marvels that even so, she never felt deprived because there was so much joy in our house from the beginning, so much activity and laughter.

My parents loved to be together, and my mother was amazed at what a great father and husband my dad was. Every day he was sure to tell mom how lucky she was to be married to him. He made her laugh, but it was true. They were both lucky.

Don't Tell Your Mother

Irving was the ringleader of all the fun things we did together as a family — the camping trips, the road trips, the track meets, and the crazy driving around on wheeled thingamabobs in parking lots – and Alzada was always right there with us, our biggest cheerleader – most of the time.

Irving could be eccentric in his ideas of having fun, nearing the edge of downright dangerous by today’s standards, but Alzada would be right by his side, exclaiming, “Oh, Irving!”

When he had the idea to put chains on his motorcycle tires to pull us around on snow skis, Alzada objected at first, as she often did (Oh, Irving!), and then complied by getting on the back to hold the tow rope.

Once, when my dad invited me for what may have been a multi-mile swim at the Swansea Dam, my mother wondered if it would be too much for me but, in I went, and I can recall feeling totally safe being near Dad, who had me relax and float when I got tired, caring for me and encouraging me all the way.

Irving also made the best babysitter because he let us do absolutely anything we wanted. One night, Alzada came home and slipped on the kitchen floor that we Cross kids had decided to “wax” with butter. My father just sat there, casually reading the paper, which he enjoyed, as if nothing were amiss – or at the very least, as if he were pretending not to notice anything was amiss. He liked telling my mother, “I never have any problem with these kids!”

Clearly, Irving’s sense of fun included mischief.

“Don’t tell your mother,” Irving would advise when we had done something that wouldn’t meet Alzada’s approval – like when Brian, age ten, flipped over a go-kart, scraped his head, and broke his glasses. Then there was the time that Dad took me out on a sailboat in the middle of Lake Sebago, which felt like the ocean to me.

And there were so many other escapades, but we were always thrilled with the adventures and would NEVER tell our mother. Of course, we could probably guess how she’d react – “Oh, Irving!”

Track Meets

Irving would enter us Cross kids into track meets, even though we had no formal training whatsoever. What we did have in abundance was love and encouragement from both of our parents — and the chance to shine. Irving thought we would run fast and do fine out on the field, and so we did.

One of these track meets was triumphant for our family. On Saturday, June 15, 1968, Irving entered five of us in the Jaycees’ annual track-and-field meet at Maplewood Park in Fall River – everyone except Dana, who was too young at age six.

ALL FIVE OF US WON MEDALS!

Our family’s combined victories earned us an article in the Fall River Herald News on June 17, 1968 – “Cross Family Steals Show in Jaycees Meet,” read the headline.

Reporter Fred Dolan wrote that our oldest brother, Steve, broke records in both the 220-yard dash and the discus throw, two of the five events in which he competed. For all of the details, see the full article below (our trusty Volkswagen bus appears in the background of the newspaper photo).

Our brother David won three foot races AND the broad jump AND took second in the baseball throw, scoring the highest overall point total of any athlete who competed on that day.

AND that was not all – Brian won one second-place medal and two third-place medals; Pam won two firsts and one second in the prep division; and I, Deborah (“Debby”), came in first in both the 100-yard and 220-yard dashes in the intermediate division.

Mr. Dolan also gave our parents their share of spotlight – "Mr. and Mrs. Irving C. Cross did some running of their own to various areas of the park checking on the progress of their offspring."

Rope Tows & Rapids

Alzada was a reluctant but almost always willing victim. Consider the first – and LAST – time my mother attempted to ski.

Mom had a knack for finding affordable places we could all go to in our Volkswagen Bus, including King Pine, a family-friendly ski house in Madison, NH. The cost for skiing was $4 a day in the 1960s, and the lodging rates and all-you-can-eat meals (a must with growing boys in the family) were quite reasonable. I still remember Steve eating enough bacon for a battalion every morning.

Dad and the kids were quite adept at ascending by the chairlift, but beginners would start on the "rope tow," a free, crude system of a looped rope powered by a motor. You grasp the rope to haul you up the slope.

All of us urged mom to give it a try – "C’mon mom, just try it,” was the family refrain.

And she did.

Mom grabbed the rope tow tight, fighting the momentum, she was getting there…

And then, halfway up, her skis crossed and she ended up on her back with her arms and legs splayed at her sides, as if she were going to make a snow angel. Skiers behind her joined the fray.

And mom just couldn't get up.

I’d like to think I’m better than this, but at that moment, all I could do was laugh! (It still makes me laugh!) I tried to suppress it, but it was just so, so funny.

Mom didn't think so, and never skied again.

Years later, when us Cross kids were adults, we all went together on a whitewater rafting trip in Colorado. Mom, on the back of the raft, was totally unprepared for what was going to happen.

As soon as we hit the first rapids – out of the raft she tumbled, taking the guy sitting next to her along with her.

She had to drift down current in her lifejacket for at least a mile before she could swim to shore, boiling mad that not one of us, not even our father, had jumped out to help her (which would have been impossible at our breakneck speed).

Needless to say, mom also gave up whitewater rafting.

Small Houses, Big Families

Though she didn’t know it at the time, Alzada’s adolescence prepared her for her future role as the mother of a big family in a small house.

When Alzada was growing up there were only two beds in their small Fall River home at 733 New Boston Road – one bed her older brothers shared, and the other she shared with her parents.

Alzada’s father Louis passed away in 1944 when Alzada was 17, and soon after, Alzada’s brother Frank married her best friend Betty and moved back into the Weaver family home, where they had two daughters, Susan Irene and Cynthia Ann, by the end of 1950. Alzada’s brother Joe also moved in with his wife Johanna and their little daughter Joan in the late 1940s, and their son Robert was born while they lived there.

This was not a big house, so the living room was converted into a bedroom for Frank and Betty; Joe and Johanna took one of the bedrooms; and Alzada, who never slept alone, continued sharing the other bedroom with her mother Susan. Joe and his family lived there until Frank officially bought the Weaver home in the early 1950s.

Three days before their wedding in February 1950, Alzada and Irving rented an apartment on the third floor of a house on Durfee Street. There were times early in their marriage when they would put two weeks’ rent down on an apartment with no idea where they’d get the next two weeks’ rent, but Alzada and Irving never felt deprived because there was so much joy in their house from the beginning, so much activity and laughter.

Alzada was pregnant and quickly grew tired of climbing three flights of stairs, so they moved in with Irving’s parents, where their very first child, Steven Thomas Cross, was born in October 1950.

Irving, an electrician by trade, had to go where the work was, so their small but growing family moved around a lot in the beginning. He was on a job in Connecticut when their second child – me – Deborah Ann Cross – was born in January of 1952. We moved in with Alzada’s mother, Susan, our Nana, while Irving found us a place to live in Connecticut, and almost as soon as the job ended and we’d moved back to Fall River, Irving found his next job – in New Jersey.

“And I moved to New Jersey with the two babies!” Alzada said. “I felt like, where he goes, I go. Wherever his work takes him, then that’s where I’ll be.”

Alzada and Irving’s third child, Pamela Jean Cross, was born in July 1954, and their fourth, David Alan Cross, in October 1958.

When David was one, Irving and Alzada purchased what would become the Cross Family “forever home” on Little Neck Island in Swansea, Massachusetts. Their fifth child, Brian Jay Cross, arrived in 1960, followed by their sixth and last child, Dana Bradford Cross, in October 1962.

“We had six kids and only one bathroom! I never pushed Irving that we needed a bigger house. We stayed in the house that we could afford,” Alzada said. “It’s a small house, but to us, it didn’t feel small.”

Alzada still lives in the Cross Family home.

Alzada (pregnant with Pamela), Deborah & Steven

Wedding Surprise

Once, when asked how Irving popped the question, Alzada (laughing) said, “I’m not sure he asked me – I think it just…happened.”

Irving and Alzada became Mr. and Mrs. Cross on Friday, February 17, 1950. It was a freezing cold day, but the temperature doesn’t matter when you’re so much in love, and you don’t need fancy proposals and expensive frills to get married.

Their small, simple wedding ceremony was held in the modest church parlor of the parish house. Alzada’s brother Frank was Irving’s best man, and Frank’s wife Betty (Alzada’s best friend and sister-in-law) was her matron of honor.

Within seconds of being officially pronounced man and wife, still standing hand in hand at the altar, Alzada’s overwhelming happiness vanished in a cloud of confusion and disbelief as Irving was wrenched away from her.

“It felt like there were people pulling our hands apart. Who would do such a thing to a newly married couple?” Alzada recalled. “And then I looked, and it was Irving – he had passed out!”

He was just about to fall on the floor when Frank, who was 5’2 – a whole foot shorter than 6’2 Irving – caught him. (Best man, indeed!)

The little wedding party got the woozy newlywed into a chair, and as he came to, Irving said, “OK, finish it.”

When they told him he was already married, he looked at his hand, saw the ring and, very calmly, simply said, “Oh.”

From swooning to honeymooning!

NOTABLE NUPTIALS

Sir David Attenborough, who was born in May of 1926, just five months before Alzada, also got married on February 17, 1950. He and his wife Jane Elizabeth Ebsworth Oriel were married until her passing in 1997. Other notable nuptials for February 17^th include Teddy Roosevelt's daughter Alice (1906), novelist J.D. Salinger (1955), and actress Joan Collins (2002).

Alzada and Irving shortly after midnight on Jan. 1, 1960 – less than two months away from their 10th wedding anniversary.

Alzada + Irving

Alzada and Irving were attracted to each other at first sight.

It was 1949 and Alzada, age 23, was working the soda fountain at the corner drugstore in Fall River. From behind the counter, she could watch everyone who came into the store, and one day, a very attractive young man caught her eye.

He was tall, slim, and elegant-looking, and Alzada noticed right away that he had an appealing kind of hip action while playing pinball with his friends. Pinball gave him an appetite, and the pretty girl behind the counter – a classic beauty with an easy smile – was even sweeter than the sodas she served.

Alzada, instantly smitten, always gave him a little extra ice cream each time he came in, embellishing the recipe, concocting extra-special sodas just for him – pretending not to hear when he bragged to his friends that the fountain girl gave him drinks for free. (Alzada was paying for his ice cream sodas!)

The handsome fella with the sweet tooth and swiveling hips was one Irving Cecil Cross, and he had a lot going for him: he was the youngest licensed electrician in town at age 22, and doing well by the looks of his brand new bright yellow 1949 Jeep Roadster.

Boy, is that something, Alzada said to herself.

But there was something more than just his good looks, sharp wit, and magnetic personality, and Alzada recognized it very early in their blossoming relationship; it was the essence of Irving’s generous and genuine spirit. If a friend needed money, Irving would lend it to him. He would even let friends borrow his precious car.

Irving picked up Alzada in his newly shined canary colored Jeepster for their first date. He wore a stylish, well-made suit and showcased his impeccable manners at the fancy restaurant he took her to. Their first date became the happiest day of both their lives at that point, with happier days yet to come.

She soon found out that the snappy suit was rented, and the Jeepster was repossessed soon after that, so Irving had to settle for a broken-down Ford truck and ten-cent beers when planning their dates. Expensive restaurants were no longer within their reach, but they never had been!

And none of that mattered. Alzada had fallen in love with a man who valued people more than possessions. She was always proud to be seen with Irving. He was the man she had always imagined falling in love with and she was the girl he’d always been looking for. They were made for each other.

It’s an enduring love story that gave rise to more love through their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and will continue through the generations yet to come.

Irving truly swept Alzada off her feet, and she never landed back on earth.

And they really, truly lived happily ever after.