A Tribute to My Aunt Omaira

Three weeks ago, my family and I said a final goodbye to my dad’s oldest sister, aunt Omaira, who left us after having been on this earth for seventy-four years. 

One of my earliest memories about her is when I noticed she was missing an arm. As a child, I thought that was odd. My parents told me not to bring it up in front of her… this was a sensitive issue. So I never did. But as I got older, I understood the horror of what had happened to her. When she was seventeen years old, she was ejected from a public bus in the streets of Caracas, and while lying on the road, another car ran over her right arm, crushing it. A gruesome accident, for sure. One that few people would be able to overcome in their lifetime. 

But she did. Oh, she had many dark days, especially at the beginning, when all her teenage girl dreams seemed to vanish with her arm. But she was not one to be defeated. While still hospitalized, she worked on learning to write with her left hand. And that was just the beginning of a successful professional life. She graduated with a bachelor’s degree in Computer Science in Caracas, Venezuela and eventually attained her master’s degree. By the time she retired in the early 90s, she’d become the head of cyber security in the Venezuelan bank she worked for. 

It was after her professional retirement that she emigrated to the United States. This, in my opinion, is the beginning of the most interesting part of her story. And quite honestly, knowing her the way I do, I’m sure she’d agree with me, for this is when her full-time ministry started. 

Over the years, she formed part of different churches in south Florida, mostly Spanish-speaking ones, and volunteered in different ministries. But the Lord led her to do more. She not only opened a small online Bible-study bookstore in the early 2000s, before online shopping was as popular as it is today, but she also created a Christian non-fiction book club. This group, which met to discuss Christian-living books, touched the lives of many women and men in unexpected ways. The Gospel was preached to seekers who visited. Prayers for each other and each other’s families abounded. Spiritual wars were unleashed. Over the years, I found myself the recipient of such prayers for my personal life, especially during the tough years of raising teenage boys. 

During her memorial service, I learned she had influenced many people, in many different ways, but especially more the tight-knit community that formed the book club. She encouraged many of them to get out of their comfort zone. She had a knack for seeing other’s God-given gifts and talents. By pushing them to exercise those gifts, she was instrumental in their spiritual growth. And why wouldn’t the others listen to her? After all, this was the lady that had accomplished much despite obstacles. 

She never married, but she was never alone. Her house door was unlocked during the day and sisters in Christ walked in anytime during the day to pray with her, to read the Bible with her, to keep her company and, toward the end, to assist her. 

She imparted wisdom even from her sickbed. I still laugh at the memory of my husband looking for a Bible verse to share with her as we went to visit for what we knew would be the last time. He was all set, armed with his Bible verse, ready to comfort her. To his surprise, it was she who comforted him as she brought up 1 Peter 5:7: “casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.” She shared with him how that verse had become alive to her as she learned of her diagnosis of terminal cancer. See? From the moment she heard the news, the peace of the Lord had filled her heart. There was no anxiety or fear, only peace. She said, “The Lord must truly have his arms around me because the pain and fear I would have expected to feel is not there. He truly is carrying my burden. I’m at peace.” 

Her last testimony of faith to those who knew her was preparing her own funeral. With a clear mind and much aplomb, my no non-sense aunt took care of all the details. She put together the order of the service. Decided which songs would be sung and who would sing them. Wrote her autobiography and appointed readers that would share it during the service. Lined up speakers for her service. She even planned and paid for the meal we would eat after her funeral! It had all been an ultimate act of love; she had expressed she didn’t want her family burdened with these details when she was gone. 

Truly, my aunt was a pioneer, a strong and, definitely, an unconventional woman. Above all, she was a woman of God. I’m blessed to have had her in my life. Her example of determination, especially when it came to ministering to others, is one for me to look up to. The lessons I learned both through her words and her testimony are treasures that I aim to keep in my heart. I thank the Lord for her life. I thank the Lord for having allowed me to be part of hers. 

I heard many say during the funeral, “This is not a goodbye; this is a ‘See you later’.” Yes, indeed, see you later, aunt Omaira.

“Either make the tree good and its fruit good, or make the tree bad and its fruit bad, for the tree is known by its fruit.”

Matthew 12:33 ESV

https://bible.com/bible/59/mat.12.33.ESV

“O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?”

1 Corinthians 15:55 ESV

https://bible.com/bible/59/1co.15.55.ESV

*Part of the information I shared here was taken from her autobiographical letter, composed by her, while arranging her funeral.