Dolores Saba

My mom was born on October 13th, 1926 in Sheboygan Wisconsin. She was the youngest of five children in her family. She described herself as a bit of a tomboy, and was a natural athlete. She was headstrong by nature, which proved I think an asset throughout her life and a challenge sometimes. Her father had an authoritarian style of parenting that clashed with her personality, so she jumped at the chance to fly from the nest and move to California when she was 18. She left Sheboygan with her best friend Bertha who was only 16 at the time. The two of them came to Inglewood. My mom quickly found work and they settled in there. My mom said she was considered the black sheep of the family when she moved away, but later after coming home to assist her eldest sister who had just given birth, she forever redeemed herself in the eyes of her father.

Mom met my father in 1947 and married him a few months later. Both she and my father liked to tell the story of how they met. It would go something like this… We met in an alley; there would be the well timed pause and then the clarification, a “bowling” alley.

They enjoyed an extended honeymoon for 11 years. That wasn’t intentional though, they always wanted to have children. They adopted me in 1959. Despite having trouble conceiving before I came along, a couple years later my mom gave birth to my sister Diane, and then in 1965 to my younger brother David.

David was born with Down’s syndrome, and while this was an initial shock for my Mom, I think the way she eventually loved and cared for him was the defining experience of her life, and for our family the greatest life lesson and gift she gave us. I think prior to that we had an Ozzie and Harriet mindset, and with David’s birth that all changed. She taught us life wasn’t always going to be the way you thought it would be. It didn’t matter so much what happened, it mattered what you made of it. She taught us compassion for the less fortunate, particularly those with disabilities, perseverance, and above all sacrifice for those that you love. While my father was universally loved and admired, my mom frankly was the primary parent at home, and we spent the most time with her. She was truly the unsung hero in our family.

The last 10 years for my mom were hard, with steadily declining mental and physical capacity. In a way Diane and I have been grieving her loss for many years now. So now I stand before you yes sad to see her gone from this life on earth, but that is not my only emotion. You see I’m glad she had trouble having children back in the fifties. I can’t imagine a better life to be born into, or better parents to raise me. My strongest emotion now is not sorrow but unending gratitude for my mom’s life and the life she gave me.

Opening Hymn, "How Can I Keep From Singing?"

My life goes on in endless song

Above earth's lamentations,

I hear the real, though far-off hymn

That hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife

I hear it's music ringing,

It sounds an echo in my soul.

How can I keep from singing?