Elodia Garcia

She is survived by her son, Gary Garcia, and her daughter, Victoria Johnston; 10 grandchildren, 26 great-grandchildren, and 18 great-great-grandchildren.

Elodia was preceded in death by her beloved husband of 69 years, Calistro Garcia; her parents, Victoria and Pascual Valdez; her sisters, Viola Gonzales and Amparo Luera; her brothers, Mario Valdez, Ramiro Valdez, and Eddie Valdez; and her cherished son, Joe Mario Garcia, whom she loved unconditionally.

Elodia was the oldest child in her family and is also survived by her sister, Norma Tate of San Jose, California.

She lived long enough to witness five generations of her family. Her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren brought her tremendous joy and happiness. She especially looked forward to seeing everyone during the holidays.

Elodia was born in Del Rio, Texas. Her family later moved to San Angelo, Texas, where her father found work. While living in San Angelo, she married Calistro Garcia in 1949.

In 1956, Elodia and Calistro moved to California in search of better opportunities. For many years, Elodia worked seasonally at the Del Monte Cannery alongside several members of her family.

She later worked at the Salvation Army store in San Jose, where she eventually became the store manager. Elodia dedicated more than 30 years to her work there, and the Human Resources department once noted that she was the longest-serving employee in the store’s history.

Elodia and her husband were devoted members of Saint Patrick’s Church in San Jose. She served as a Eucharistic Minister, giving communion during Sunday morning services, and took great pride in serving the Lord.

One of Elodia’s greatest joys was caring for plants and flowers. She had a remarkable green thumb and seemed able to bring even the most lifeless plants back to life. Her home was always filled with beautiful orchids.

Another secret love of hers was lottery tickets. Her son Gary made countless trips to the corner store to pick them up for her. Even three days before she passed, she was still asking for them. At one point, she even convinced one of her nurses to bring her lottery tickets once a week. She loved the thrill of winning.

She also loved having her back scratched. Whenever someone did, she would say, “Ahhh, como la Cora.” When asked who Cora was, she explained it was her mother Victoria’s pig. Every night before bed, Cora would get her stomach scratched before being sent back to her stall.

Elodia often shared stories from her childhood about the segregation between whites and Mexicans. She remembered having to pick up food from the back doors of restaurants and sitting in the back of the bus. Although they were legally allowed to sit in restaurants, they were often not served. She would reflect on those times and be thankful that many things had changed, though she knew there was still work to be done.

Elodia was a loving woman with a generous heart. She was always cooking and preparing more food than seemed necessary. When asked why she cooked so much, she would simply say, “We don’t know who might come over.” She and Calistro lived by that spirit of generosity and were deeply blessed because of the love they shared with others.

Elodia, we will miss your wonderful sense of humor, your playful spirit—even that famous middle finger—and the unconditional love you showed to everyone around you. You never judged anyone and welcomed all with open arms.

May you rest in peace and give our love to those who are waiting for you in heaven.

Until we meet again.

Blessings.