SAN YGNACIO, TX – Diana Cuellar-Villarreal, passed away peacefully on December 12, 2020, surrounded by her family. Diana was born on July 23, 1943, in Laredo to Francisco Cuellar and Antonia Jasso Cuellar.
She is preceded in death by her beloved husband of 56 years, Gabriel Villarreal Jr., her parents, her baby sister, María del Socorro, her in-laws, Gabriel Sr. and Cira, Fernando Villarreal and Ramona and Rogelio Molina.
She is survived by her loving sons Santiago (Rosa), Gabriel III (Dora), Gilberto (Gloria), Francisco Javier (Karina) Villarreal and daughter Ana María (Bobby) Silva; her grandchildren Gabriel Eduardo (Frances), Jesus Armando (Noemi), David (Cristina), Andrew James, Gilberto II (Cassandra), Marco, Krysta & Gavin Villarreal, Melissa (Sonny) Gallegos, Robby (Nayelly), Jerardo (Andrea), and Javier (Krystal) Silva; her great-grandchildren Gabrielle Nicole, Gabriel Alejandro, Sofía Marie, Charlotte Eleanor, David Eduardo Jr., Julie, Daniel, Santos Xavier, Carlos Daniel and Nathaniel; her brothers, Francisco (Clementina), Leonardo (Irma) Cuellar, sisters Alicia (José H.) Villarreal and Leonila Cuellar; and her extended family, Eva Villarreal, Cira (Jesus D.) Sandoval, Eustorgio (Fina) Villarreal, Juan Luis Villarreal, Diana S. Villarreal, and Margarita Sepulveda. She is also survived by numerous loving nieces, nephews, and cousins.
Diana was raised in Old Zapata and shared countless fond memories of the old town and what it meant to her. At 17, she married Gabriel “Lel”, and together they established their family home in San Ygnacio. They initially worked in the fields while raising their family. In 1968, she began her career at Benito Juarez Head Start Center where she worked as a teacher aide for over 32 years. She truly loved the children and families that she served. She was a lifelong educator, mentor, and friend who encouraged and inspired countless, young and old alike, to pursue their goals and achieve their dreams in whichever field they preferred. She did so, simply by offering her dose of relentless yet loving and gentle pressure. Diana traveled extensively and lived a blessed life, leaving behind a legacy of love with everyone she met. She was deeply loved by her family, friends, local community, and even those she met while living in Peru.
Funeral services will be held at the Rose Garden Funeral Home in Zapata on Thursday, December 17, from 10:00 a.m. to 11:30 a.m.
A graveside service will follow, at 12:00 p.m., at Martinez Cemetery in San Ygnacio, Texas.
Due to the current pandemic, viewing at the funeral home will be limited to immediate and extended family members. Family and friends are welcome to join the procession and attend the graveside service. The procession will depart the funeral home at 11:30 a.m. For everyone’s safety, and in keeping with current pandemic restrictions, surgical masks and social distancing measures are mandatory.
Diana’s family would like to express their sincere gratitude to all those who although may be unable to attend, have expressed their condolences, offered words of encouragement, prayers and love during this most difficult time.
Funeral arrangements are under the direction of Rose Garden Funeral Home Daniel A. Gonzalez, Funeral Director, 2102 N. US HWY 83 Zapata, Texas.
This letter was written several years ago as a Mother’s Day letter, but we feel it conveys our sentiments about our dearest Mom, so we are sharing it as a tribute to her and the extraordinary woman she was.
My mother, how do I begin to describe my mother in any way that will come close to doing justice to whom she is or what she has done for me? Is it even possible? She is someone that cannot be easily explained by mere words. This is because her accomplishments cannot be qualified or quantified in any measurable way. Equally, her spirit cannot be encapsulated. So how do I relate to her and anyone else the gift that she was to not only me but the world that she occupies? I will attempt to do so by evoking small memories or shards of memories that I have of the special woman who is my mother.
My first recollections of childhood are of my mother. One of these flickers of thought is of me sleeping in my mother’s bed at about 5 or 6 years of age. I felt loved in her presence during my waking hours and wanted to keep that feeling going as long as possible by squeezing as much time in her company. Inevitably, my father would scoot me along with his saying that was repeated to everyone in our clan of 5 who had aspirations of somehow stopping time by lingering in their room… in their bed. The saying in Spanish went, “a su tierra grulla que esta no es la suya.” This was interpreted to mean, ‘off to your own bed since this is not your own’. I am not too sure if this is spelled correctly, and if it is not, I can only smile as I think about my father who will surely frown on it— but that will be another story.
I have heard my mother say that she is not brave. She tells people that she does not know how her children can be leaders in their fields or do the things that they do such as working with high voltage wires, having been in the military, being a high school teacher or being in law enforcement. My mother forgets that she provided the platform for her children to be who they are. Being able to excel in challenging fields has to come from confidence. And, that confidence has to begin somewhere. I believe that it was instilled in us from our earliest years. My mother never said to me, ‘you cannot do it’. On the contrary, she was always saying that anything was possible. Another part of confidence is security. I always felt secure in my home. My parents saw to that. However humble our home may have been, it was a place of stability. And my mother was a big piece of that stability that cannot be overestimated. Because we were allowed to try and fail in various ventures while growing up, I never felt overwhelmed by fear of failure. This, I believe, frees one to venture confidently into the world. My mother showed her own brand of courage while we were growing up. Since our father spent many days and at times weeks making a living as a long-haul truck driver, our mother had to manage many trying times on her own. Her faith reinforced her and this was conveyed to us. For her steadfast commitment to her family, I am eternally grateful to her.
I remember my mother being my teacher. She was my older brother’s teacher and served in the same capacity for all of our brood. The term ‘teacher’ can be applied to her profession since she was an early childhood teacher aide. She would like the fact that I emphasized the word aide, because that befits her personality. Her ambition was never for titles or accolades. Yet she was not only a teacher, but a teacher of the highest caliber. She taught at Benito Juarez Head Start Center in San Ygnacio, Texas for over 30 years. There she taught and nurtured children and saw them off into the next phase of their schooling. All the children that attended this center were lucky. Because for all that time, she comforted them as they yelled for their parents for almost 33 years worth of first days of school, she cooked for them and fed them, she also cleaned and changed them when soiled, she led them in games, danced with them, sang with them and to them, sat on the floor and read to them, she soothed them when they cried, nursed many skinned knees and scraped hands, broke up many spats and fights over swings and toys, and rocked them to sleep. Then, as if this was not enough, she loved them. Yes, she loved them and cared for them as if they were her own. This stands out when I think of my mother: her infinite ability to love. She loved the bullies, the brats, the whiners, the sickly, the shy, the bold, the athletes and the scholars. She could take offenses and brush them off as if they were gentle butterflies on her sleeve. She taught acceptance and tolerance to everyone that she came in contact with. And if asked, she could probably recall the names of the children that she taught her first year on the job. Then she might recall the offspring from those now grown-up children that were brought to her care whom she also ‘mothered’. For you see, they were her children as well. And all of these children were not only cared for but also unconditionally loved. And all the parents in this little town appreciated the special care that she gave to their children even if they never said so. In her small corner of the world, she changed people’s lives for the better with her genuine character. She was not only an aide, but she was a TEACHER, a very gifted teacher!
The teaching did not stop at her job. At home, my mother taught us by words and deeds. She never seemed to tire. She would get home, cook dinner, clean up, wash clothes and prepare for the next day. She was usually the last one to go to sleep then she was awake before any one of us had awoken. Usually, breakfast was ready before I was awake. It was always an incentive to get up knowing that a good, hot, hearty meal was waiting for me. Breakfasts usually consisted of eggs with potatoes, bacon, chorizo, carne seca (dried beef or venison) or ‘a la Mexicana’ (with sautéed onions and peppers) and her large, soft and fluffy flour tortillas which there was always an abundance of. I sometimes am amazed when I think back on the amount of tortillas that I would eat, but I am always grateful for the fact that there would always be more to consume the next day. Although her hot cereals or pancakes were tasty and always well received, I remember not liking that type of breakfast very much for one simple reason. And that reason was that I would get very hungry way before lunch. It was just too light! There was nothing like the traditional breakfast that would stick to your ribs longer. My mother would always go about her business with as cheery a disposition as possible. I can recall very few times that I saw her looking sad or upset about something. I learned to cook, clean up, sew clothes and wash clothes by watching her from the time that I was in elementary school. She would never tell me that I was bothering her as I would stand next to her or sit down at the kitchen table and pepper her with questions. She would then ask me about my day, and I would ramble on and on about the things that I had learned at school. She made me feel as if what I was talking about was the most amazing thing that she had ever heard. Since I am mostly introverted, this was one way that my mother made me connect (however slightly) with people. By watching her, I learned to do a job without griping about it, to do it diligently and in the best way possible. I credit her with showing me this work ethic that has served me well.
As stated earlier, my mother did not aspire to impress anyone with false airs or material objects. She passed over opportunities to advance in her career so that she could dedicate more time at home. She cherished this home time. She again showed her innate wisdom in knowing that care-free childhood is a fleeting moment for all parents to cherish and marvel at, and she intended to make the most of it. She enjoyed having children over at our house. And in turn, children (mostly cousins) enjoyed coming over to our house. For here they were not yelled at for being loud, or walking in with dirty shoes, or knocking over a prized curio or digging holes in the yard. Instead, my mother would delight in seeing children being children in all their mischievous glory. Now that I am older, and from speaking to her about her upbringing which was completely the opposite of the way we were raised, I can only imagine that she may have been pushed to maturity and denied the privilege of acting as a child by her parents, by her culture and by the era in which she grew up. For this reason or maybe just because it was her nature, she gave her children and all children in her care the luxury of being themselves and growing up at their own pace and in their own unique way.
My mother taught me in other ways. She was always pushing for us to get an education. She and my father had married and begun a family at a very young age. And although she never regretted it, she worried that her children would struggle as they had done. She had entered the workforce with a husband and a family at a time when this was frowned upon. Family members told her that she could not juggle a husband, a family and a job and she might just raise a bunch of ruffians for her efforts. She worked extra hard to ensure that their predictions would not come true. When my oldest brother graduated from high school, she did not cling to him and tell him to get a job nearby and not to leave home as most others from our close-knit culture tended to do. She encouraged him to go seek a better life by moving out and attending college. When the second oldest graduated from high school, he too was encouraged to get an education. He left the house also and began working and attending college. I also followed in their footsteps, and in time my sister and youngest brother took flight from our humble home. Now that I have seen my two oldest sons leave my house and begin their own paths in life, I have come to learn the pain that my mother endured at being separated from her children. However, it was her instinctive knowledge that told her that this was best for her children, and she loved them enough to see them leave. We all took different paths to get to where we are at today with only the oldest and two youngest siblings having graduated from college (much to her chagrin). Yet we have all flourished in our respective fields. But one thing is shared by all five; we are all products of our mother who with her wisdom, understanding, courage, compassion and love guided us through infancy, childhood, teenage rebellion, and young carelessness into adulthood.
My mother, our matriarch, will continue to teach us and future generations. She teaches us with her unfaltering faith in God, her unwavering support of her family which now includes grandchildren and great-grandchildren, her determination in the face of adversities and above all of this, her boundless capacity to love.
I wish that I could lavish my mother with money, gifts, a mansion or any number of otherworldly possessions that I feel that she deserves. Alas, I cannot give her these things because they are beyond my means. All that I can offer her on this mother’s day is my gratitude for all she has done and continues to do. I appreciate you very much MOM and needed to let you know that you are a very special person, and I love you.
