Yolanda Rodriguez Cisneros

Yolanda Rodriquez Cisneros, recently of Broomfield, Colorado and formerly of Merritt Island, Florida, passed from this life on Monday November 14, 2022 at age 91, one week after testing positive for COVID-19, and our hearts are broken.

Born in New York City on February 15, 1931 to South American immigrant parents Jose and Angelina, she didn’t have an easy childhood. She grew up in poverty and amidst discrimination, but also with the immigrant’s optimism and belief in the opportunity for a better life. Her father served the United States in the Merchant Marines, and she spoke often of his stories of the places he had seen and visited, “but no place was better than America.”

She had five brothers and sisters she adored, all of whom preceded her in death: Ernestine, Richard, Roy, America, and Carmen. She had two daughters, Julie (Randy) and Meryl (David), who were the center of her universe for her whole life – at least until granddaughter Jennifer (Stephen) arrived, and then we had to share. When great-grandson Jack came into the picture, she was over the moon with joy. Add twin great-granddaughters Lorelai and Violet, and her joy was complete.

Mom faced many challenges in her life, but none that could or would break her. She went to work at an early age to help support her family. Many times she lived as a boarder in other people’s homes. A catastrophic car accident in 1964 would leave her scarred and disabled. Despite the doctors telling her she would never walk again, after four months in a body cast she walked out of the hospital – she had young daughters to raise, you see, and we were only 5 and 6 years old at the time. They told her she probably would be blind by age 40; she had better eyesight than either of her children. She was a three-time cancer survivor, had two knees replaced, and never let adversity stop her. She had a deep and abiding faith that God would provide and protect, and He did. She had such a special relationship with God that we jokingly called it her “direct line to God,” and friends and family often would ask her to pray for their specific needs because of it, and they were always the better because of it.

She was strong and determined, and fiercely loyal and protective of those she loved. She loved her children unconditionally, encouraged us to be our own person, let us be our own person, but set the bar high. She taught us by word and example that we were capable of achieving anything we desired to accomplish. She taught us by word and example that we should work hard and never give up. She taught us by word and example to be thankful for the big things and for the simplest things – the college educations, the good jobs, the promotions, the loves in our lives, friends, family, the blue sky, the warm sun, the roof over our heads, the food on the table, the flowers and the weeds, the new day with another chance. How many times we heard her “flash prayers”: “Thank you God for my eyesight” when there was a beautiful sunset. “Thank you, God, for my hearing,” as birds sang. “Thank you, God, that I can walk” when she saw someone who couldn’t. “Thank you, God, for my job” when she saw someone less fortunate. She truly lived “give thanks in all circumstances.”

She also was a strict parent and demanding taskmaster. She could freeze us in our tracks with a look (that raised eyebrow could send a shiver down our spine well into adulthood), and convey more with her tone of voice than the most direct comment or remark ever could. Anything less than excellent manners, respect and courtesy was not ever an option; she would not tolerate it. It was the same for school performance. In the immigrant’s world, education was (and still is) the

key to a better life. She had promised her father we would go to college, and that meant scholarships, so that meant excellence in school. She told us we were smart enough to make straight A’s and that’s all she would accept. And that’s what we brought home. She fulfilled her promise to her father, and my sister and I have had that better life because of it.

She had a heart bigger than the universe, and she was everyone’s mom. She had a special connection with children, undoubtedly because of her own childhood, and they could feel her love and warmth instantly. She loved all her nieces and nephews, treasured each of their unique personalities. We have a big ethnic family, and growing up, more than a dozen cousins lived close by. So many memories of her letting all of us and each of us make a mess, run and laugh, sing and dance, brush her hair, try her make-up and perfume, wear her clothes. She was loving and encouraging to everyone. She had such insight, she could see the hurt and the fears that others had and hid, and she uplifted and protected, and you knew it was genuine.

Her love of our dogs and cats, and later her cats, probably trumped her love for all of us, though. Not really, but it could seem that way! Every one of them became butterballs with all the treats she would give and then deny giving. Their pure and unconditional love filled her heart, and she adored them all. Tiger, Royfus, Lady, Inca, Daniel, Norman, Charlie Cat, Huckleberry, Pretty Boy and Pretty Girl, and lastly, Delilah – all waiting at the Rainbow Bridge for her. Well, maybe not Pretty Boy and Charlie Cat – not actually sure they made it to Heaven, but she loved them anyway, which was typical.

She was exceedingly generous, would open her heart, her home, her wallet, to so many during her lifetime. Many of you reading this experienced it – she adopted you, encouraged you, helped you, advised you, scolded you, loved you. So many times in my life I’ve been stopped by the words, “Are you Yolanda’s daughter?” and heard stories of how she touched their lives, changed their lives, improved their lives, saved their lives. She’s a hard act to follow.

But then came the little signs that something was amiss, and Alzheimer’s would become her last and greatest challenge. It is such a wicked and evil disease, and with each memory loss, a stab into our hearts. But God graced her and us even then. She remained happy and loving and grateful and encouraging right until the end of her life, and continued to touch those around her

in remarkable ways. The ripple effect of her love is immeasurable.

COVID-19 pushed her over the edge after a year filled with health challenges and scares. Many thanks to the caregivers and staff at Villagio of Broomfield for their loving care of Mom this past year. Many thanks to Dr. Sinny Wang and her staff, who were there with patience and kindness and understanding every time we needed them. And many thanks to Nurse Rachel and The Denver Hospice, who helped and calmed us, and cared for Mom these last months of her life. All of you – angels in our midst.

We were blessed to have had her in our lives for as long as we did. Now we will try to live the rest of our lives as well as we can, in tribute to all she did for us and meant to us, in tribute to all the success and happiness she wanted for us. To those of you whose lives she touched, we hope you do the same.

Rest in peace, Mom, Grandmama, Aunt, Aunt Yolanda, Aunt Mylonda, Auntie, Yolanda, Yo, Yo-Yo, and thank you for your love.

We will have a “Joyous Remembrance of Yolanda” get-together on Saturday, December 10, 2022, at 10:30 a.m., at the Hyatt Place, 6865 W. 103 rd Avenue, Westminster, Colorado, 80021. Mom’s culture and spirituality believes that death is a new beginning to be celebrated, not mourned, so please feel comfortable wearing white instead of black, or wear her favorite colors

of sky blue or yellow, or really anything happy and joyous. Hyatt Place has reserved a block of rooms, and we will have remote access for those of you who would like to attend but not travel.

And we are planning a memory book, especially for the great-grands to have when they are older, so we would love to have as many memories and stories you would like to share, and even share them at the Remembrance, too. Contact Meryl or Julie if you have something to share.

In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation in her name to the Alzheimer’s Association to help stop this dreadful disease, or to The Denver Hospice, who stepped in to help when we needed it most.

Thank you for your love and friendship.