My Dad, Juan Cruz Garcia

Born in Violet, Texas on March 27, 1932 passed on to glory June 11, 2016!
Dad what a life you had, for the most part you never knew what had transpired in your childhood. Your illegal deportation to Mexico by so called immigration officials know as Texas Rangers during the Great Depression of this country at the age of 7 forever altered your ambition to become an attorney or for you to even learn to read or write English or Spanish. 
At the age of 21 you returned to your land a very frustrated man, not understanding the language or ways of Americans. You met Mom, Nieves and began your life with her, eleven children she bore you but two departed after their birth. With no education you worked hard labor, as a farm worker you and Mom provided for your families as best as you could. The nopales, migas, frijoles, venado, rabbit and tortillas were most of our staples growing up, KFC was a rare, luxury meal to us as I recall. Your side of the family, we now know were Lipan Apache but prior to that sangre Azteca is only traceable. You traveled all over Texas with your family, we lived in very improvished migrant camps, we left for other states California I recall we encountered many union farmers workers huelgas (strikes) with Cesar Chavez heading them up. I recall your worried face as you had to turn our truck back because roads were blocked, you worried how you were going to feed your family and pay bills. As all your children grew and moved away you made your way back to Texas to still find your campesinos still improvished and again more huelgas. It seemed like your entire life you had to fight constantly to live or stay above the water.
April 2nd, 2002 Mom left you behind and I recall the years you spent cleaning the cemetery all day where she lay because you missed her even though you wouldn't admit it. 
God's love and mercy reached out to you on December 20, 2015 you repented and went down in Jesus Name in that watery grave for the remission of ALL your sins. The most precious blood was applied to you, the others didn't matter anymore. I wasn't there but when I went to church I ran the isles rejoicing!!!
  Fourteen years later you came to Arizona to your grandsons wedding in which you're health took a drastic turn, you would never return to Texas and our journey began. You and I had never had a relationship in fact we were so much alike we couldn't  take much of each other. I went to visit you everyday at the hospital, I researched dementia trying to understand what you were going through. I cried before I visited and after I left you in that place because you weren't the strong Dad I knew as a little girl. Everyday I went to see you I was one of your seven daughter, sometimes it was me you talked to but it didn't matter cause I had you to myself. Your fight was shortlived, on June 11 minutes before your passing I told you farewell Dad I'll see you in Glory...you waited for us to step out for a few minutes and you were gone. I miss you Dad!





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