Raul Palacios

Thank you everybody for coming today. We gather to celebrate the life of my brother Raul. A brother, a friend, and a man whose heart was bigger than the challenges he faced. Raul, the third of seven siblings, was born on April 2nd, 1955 in El Paso, Texas, into a world that wasn't yet equipped to understand or support a child born with meningitis. His hearing and speech were affected for life, but from the very beginning, Raul showed us that limitations could never dim a bright spirit.

At seven years old, we came to California, where Inglewood became his lifelong home. Even without the special education resources children have today, Raul faced every obstacle with determination. He graduated from Inglewood High School in 1973 and soon after began the job that would shape the next forty years of his life

-his service at Loyola Marymount University. LMU wasn't just a workplace for Raul; it was a community, a place where he showed up with loyalty, pride, and his own special charm.

And what charm he had.

Raul had a way with people-sometimes intentional, sometimes beautifully unfiltered. One of his signature greetings was directed to every woman he met: "Hi Lady!" He said it with a smile, with sincerity, and with the warmth only Raul could deliver. It didn't matter if he had known you for years or met you five seconds ago-you were his "Lady;' and it instantly made people laugh and feel seen.

He also had a sense of humor that snuck up on you. When someone couldn't understand him-or worse, ignored him-Raul had a line ready. He'd look right at them and say, "I can read your lips... and God is seeing you!" It was hilarious, disarming, and so perfectly Raul. He wasn't afraid to call it like he saw it, but he always did it with a playful honesty that made you love him even more.

Faith was Raul's anchor. He carried his Bible in his car everywhere he went, not as a decoration but as a companion. Every trip to dialysis was taken with prayer and trust. He believed, deeply, that "the Lord would have mercy," and that faith carried him through some of the hardest challenges of his life.

And in his journey, he was never alone. Raul was blessed with friends who loved him unconditionally-especially his Filipino circle of brothers: George, Jerry, Jessie, and Johnny who welcomed him with open arms. You shared meals, laughter, conversation, and companionship. You made him feel understood and appreciated in ways that meant more than words can express. Our family is forever grateful for the love and care you gave him. You were truly his second family.

Raul had a gift for connection. It didn't matter who you were-if he met you, he wanted to know you. He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to be your friend. People were drawn to his sincerity, his innocence, and the purity of his intentions. He loved without hesitation, and in return, he was loved deeply by so many.

His life wasn't easy. He carried burdens most of us will never fully understand. But he also carried joy, humor, gentleness, and faith. He showed us that a meaningful life isn't measured by perfection, but by heart. And Raul's heart was overflowing.

As we say goodbye, we hold onto his laugh, his one-liners, his "Hi Lady!" greetings, his unwavering faith, and the way he made everyone feel like they mattered. We remember a man who overcame, who loved fiercely, who never stopped trying, and who left the world brighter simply by being in it.

Raul passed away on November 20, 2025 and is preceded in death by his parents Carlos G. Palacios, Yolanda Palacios, and sister Martha Palacios.

May he now rest in peace in their company, finally free from every struggle he endured. And may we honor his memory by living as he did-with kindness, with humor, with faith, and with a heart open to everyone we meet.

___________

He lived in a world quieter than most,

where sound was a stranger and words sometimes hid behind walls others never saw.

But still -

he walked through life with steady steps, meeting every morning with worn hands and a heart that refused to give up.

Silence did not make him small.

Misunderstanding did not dim his light.

He learned to speak in other ways

in kindness,

in patience,

in showing up every day

even when life asked more of him than it asked of others.

- Jenna Diossa