Elisa Rodriguez Trueba

It is with heavy hearts that we say goodbye to our beloved Elisa R. Trueba - fierce and loving matriarch, the heartbeat and glue that held our family together.

She was born into a large family as one of 12 siblings on February 24, 1935. Elisa left us on June 11, 2025, but her spirit, laughter, love, and legacy will forever echo in our hearts.

Elisa was a first-generation Mexican American and a trailblazer in her own right. She expressed her love not through grand possessions, but through the warmth of her food, her time, her hugs, and her unwavering presence. She raised six children - Pamela, Joseph, Harold, Rosemarie, Benjamin, and Sophia - and opened her heart and home to two more, Kenneth and Nichole, her daughter Rosemarie’s children, after a tragic loss that only made her love stronger and more fierce.

Her home in East Side San Jose reflected her vibrant personality - filled with hundreds of piggy figurines, piggy light fixtures, clocks, photos, and little touches of her love for all things piggy. Everywhere you looked, there was a reminder of her playful spirit and her affection for her family. It was a place where laughter, love, and her warm presence made every visit memorable. Her home was more than just a house; it was a sanctuary of family, tradition, and her unique charm.

Her home was the epicenter of family gatherings - beautifully loud, lively, full of love, and absolutely unforgettable. Holidays meant everyone crammed into her cozy house, sharing stories, laughter, and plenty of food. Christmas was the highlight - her tamales, made with love, were always the star of the show. Preparing them as a family was a memorable family tradition, which included plenty of coffee, pan dulce, music, lots of scolding and laughter. To her, food was love, and love was served in every unwrapped tamale, homemade tortilla, chorizo burrito, plate of beans, and scoop of rice. But before you even thought of digging in, you better "get from the end" as Elisa would say, and more importantly, you better “wash your manos!”

Her kitchen was always bustling - her hands, often peeling chilis without gloves to prepare her famous salsa, washing dishes with hot, scalding water that could burn anyone else but her. Her bandana tied neatly around her head kept her hair out of the food. The aroma of her cooking filled the air, accompanied by the sounds of her favorite mariachi music - most often Vicente Fernández. Her love for Spanish music was legendary, and even if most of her children and grandchildren didn’t speak Spanish, we knew the words to her favorite songs, even if we didn’t always understand what they meant! Music, like her food, was her way of showing love - an unbreakable bond that connected generations.

During Christmas - the highlight of the year - after everyone had eaten, it was time for the gifts. At grams’ house, we did things a little differently. Every present was announced loudly, with the biggest cheer reserved for her: “Grandma! Grandma! Grandma! Let me hear you scream! Ahhh!” - as she opened each gift with her unforgettable laugh and a big, beautiful smile.

Elisa was the queen of traditions and consistency. She never missed a birthday - and her handwritten cards, always in perfect cursive, were a cherished expression of her love. She’d apologize every time, saying, “I’m sorry my writing is bad,” referring to spelling, but her words carried more love than any perfect penmanship ever could. She gave from what she had, whether it was a small gift card, a few dollars, or sometimes large bills. We’d always protest, “No grams, I can’t take it,” and she’d respond with a gentle but firm smile, “Don’t make me mad. Take it. Buy something you need!”

Her generosity knew no bounds. Even when she didn’t have much to give, she’d find a way to help someone in need. She’d try to sneak money to her kids and grandkids, always wanting us to thrive, never asking for anything in return. Though we often declined, we knew it was her way of showing her love.

Elisa's toughness was unmatched. She outlived her siblings, with the exception of her two younger brothers Fred and Ernie remaining by her side. God decided when it was her time to go - defying odds and expectations. In March 2025, doctors said she wouldn’t survive the night, but God had other plans, and she fought on, giving us three more precious months with her. Her resilience was a testament to her spirit - she was a woman who knew how to hang on and live life on her own terms.

One of Elisa’s greatest joys was being a grandmother and great grandmother, roles she cherished deeply. She had 15 grandchildren and several great grandchildren.

For those she helped raise, she loved the daily routines: dropping them off and picking them up from school. Her loud blue station wagon - the soundtrack of their childhood - could be heard from a mile away, signaling her imminent arrival. Riding around with her was more than just a trip; it was a feeling of being loved, valued, and truly special.

Her love for her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren was boundless.

She was the heartbeat of the family - the one who planned and hosted every Rodriguez family reunion, her favorite moments, bringing everyone together with a smile, a hug, and of course, her beloved food. She was the matriarch, the storyteller, the heart of every gathering. She was our everything.

In her final days, her strength and determination shined brighter than ever. Surrounded by her family, she told us she was ready, asked us to take care of each other, and promised she’d be watching over us. She was a woman who chose her own moment to leave this earth - leaving behind a legacy of love, resilience, and unforgettable memories. She showed us that family is everything, and love is the most important ingredient of all.

Elisa, Mom, Grams, Tita, Abuelita, Tia, Alice, Chata - no matter what name we called you, you were our heart and soul. Your laughter, your food, your fierce love, and your unwavering strength will stay with us forever. Thank you for being the heart of our family. Rest now, knowing you are deeply loved and will be forever missed.