Saturday, April 1, 2023
Hello everyone. Just want to say thank you to all the family and friends who have been supportive over the years.
Some things we observed about him recently was...
He liked his eggs over easy, loved a nice hot cup of cappuccino. He must've drank 5 gallons of cappuccino while he was with us!
He loved a good steak. Especially a London Broil Steak with a stuffed baked potato.
When he first came to our house, he had a little trouble getting up and down the stairs. I’d park the car and help him down the front porch stairs. But after being cooped up in the house during the cold winter days he was eager to go out for dinner on Friday nights. One of the first dinners out – I couldn’t get to the stairs fast enough. He had already made it down the stairs before I could get to him. He really wanted to get that steak!
- Born in 1923 – 99 years old? - In his 100th year he would say. He believed that once your birthday passed, you began your next year of life.
- He was 6 years old when the depression started, 16 years old when it ended...But it didn’t end for his family. His mother struggled to make ends meet to take care of the family. He knew they needed help, and because of it, was one of his decision points to join the Navy. He sent money home to his mother to help take care of the family.
- At 19 he entered the Navy for WWII, ready to go to the European theater-but at the last minute was shipped to the Pacific.
- He served as a corpsman - patching up wounded Marines aboard ship off the coast of Australia. He setup a field hospital on New Guinea and medically treated indigenous people there.
— Although He was a caregiver. He had been shot at by the Japanese and returned fire. He participated in the Philippine Liberation Campaign where his efforts and those of many Americans liberated the Filipinos from the Japanese. Ross received a campaign medal for it. You can see it in his shadow box.
— One of those unspoken moments, that wasn’t lost on me, was when he was in the hospital. One day, one of the nurses came into do her daily checks in his room...She was Filipino – or Filipina. She wouldn’t realize that in some small way, his efforts some 80 years ago brought them together in that moment – in some ways switching roles. Caregiver - to the one being cared for.
He’s been called many things – but most fondly he’s been called:
Swabbie
Sailor
Shipmate
Shellback
Corpsman
Petty Officer
Veteran
Mr. Bonfiglio
Mr. B
Ross
Rosario
Uncle Ross
Dad
Papa ... and many other terms of endearment.
Some Coincidences
- I was born in St Johns hospital in Santa Monica 6 months before Joan – my wife was born in the same hospital
- Ross, Joyce and Family lived in Santa Monica.
- My family lived a few blocks away – but never crossed paths.
- Almost 16 years later, I moved in a house down the street from the Bonfiglios in Simi Valley.
So that means I’ve known Ross since 1980...thats 43 years. I met him when I was 16 years old.
He was always friendly, helpful and understanding. He was a wonderful man, and loving Father. A wonderful grandfather and recently a great grandfather. He was a loved neighbor.
He was a great example of a family man. He didn’t over-complicate things. He wasn’t superficial. He was genuine and anyone who met him – knew it. He was one of the men in my life that I looked to for an example and I am thankful to have moved in down the street from him 43 years ago.
Sure he lived a long life. The hard part of this – even though he was blessed with many years, he lived true to his name: Bonfiglio – “Bon Felio” – which means “Good Son” in Italian. A good son turned good man. The good ones are always hard to let go of – no matter how much time we had with them.
He was comforting – like your go-to blanket when you’re cold.
He was someone you looked forward to seeing – like a fresh pot of coffee on a quiet morning. Or a nice cold beer after working on a hot day.
He was like a great book that you hated put down and sad to turn the last page. When those constants are missing - you can feel it.
We were grateful and happy to have had him near us for the last chapter of his wonderful story.
I myself – like many of you, will miss him greatly.
Dad – I’ll see you on the other side.
