In Memory of Joseph Mora, RIP.  Remembering his Emoji trademark, "The Wink."

Mr. Mora Sr. enjoyed taking pictures; loved his wife, Josephine and his son and daughter, Joseph and Roseanne; he was a proud grandfather of Dina. He found the accordion, ukelele, and washboard entertaining. He had an ability to fix things. Above all, he enjoyed clowning around with relatives and friends. Making everyone laugh with his jokes and telling a good story was his trademark. RIP

Miraculous Medal Church will conduct an 8:30-AM mass in Celebration of Joseph Frederico Mora on Wednesday, 7/12/17.

Remembering My Father
In Memory of Joseph Frederico Mora Sr.

Today, as I remember.
Moments of my childhood.
That I lived with my father.
He took me by the hand.
As we walked,
He began to tell me
His Story
And he began to cry.

Why do you cry my dearest father?
I asked my father.
He told me:  I cry for nothing.
Please do not ask me again.
And with tears in his eyes 
He began telling me
Songs of yesterday
I can not recall.

Now that he is gone.
His memory is with me
All the time at every hour.
And as time passes by 
Every night as I sleep
I see him in my sleep.

Now that he has passed on,
His memory is with me.
All the time,
At every hour.
And as time passes by-
At night when I go to sleep,
I see him in my sleep.



And the memory that I have:
Is when I was young,
His Story he would tell me.
He could not finish.

Today I Dedicate to my Father.
With All My Soul,
This song.
He lives in my heart.
No matter how much time passes by
I will Not Forget Him.
I know he is watching over me, 
As I sleep.

No matter the place. 
Whatever the place I find you, Papa
I know you will hear me.

And the memory 
That I remember 
That when I was young
His Story he would tell me.
He could not finish.

NO CHARGE
By Melba Montgomery

My little boy came into the kitchen this evening
While I was fixing supper
And he handed me a piece of paper he'd been writing on
And after wiping my hands on my apron
I read it - and this is what it said:

For mowing the yard - five dollars
And for making my own bed this week - one dollar
And for going to the store - fifty cents
An playing with little brother, while you went shopping - twenty-five
Cents
Takin out the trash - one dollar
Getting a good report card - five dollars
And for raking the yard - two dollars
Total owed - fourteen seventy-five.

Well, I looked at Him standing there expectantly
And a thousand memories flashed through my mind
So I picked up the pen, turning the paper over,
This is what I wrote:

For nine months I carried you
Growing inside me - no charge
For the nights I've sat up with you,
Doctored you, prayed for you - no charge
For the time and the tears.
And the cost through the years, there's no charge
When you add it all up.
The full cost of my love is no charge.

For the nights filled with dread
And the worries ahead - no charge
For advice and the knowledge
And the cost of your college - no charge
For the toys, food and clothes and for wiping your nose
There's no charge, son
When you add it all up,
The full cost of my love, is - no charge.

Recitation:
Well, when he finished reading
He had great big old tears in his eyes
And he looked up at me and he said,
Mama, I sure do love you.
Then he took the pen,
And in great big letters
He wrote: paid in full.

In your moment of bereavement, take time to reflect on the happy times. You have no regrets because you "Danced with your Father." My condolences; sorry for your loss.

In your moment of bereavement, take time to reflect on the happy times. You have no regrets because you "Danced with your father." My condolences and sorry for your loss.

Death, be not proud

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

By John Donne
<a target="_blank" href="http://poetryfoundation.org/index.html">The Poetry Foundation</a>

AVIS DE DÉCÈS

Joseph F Mora

Décédé(e) le 27 AVRIL 2017

Casey McCallum Rice South Shore Funeral Home

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