Ramsey’s health continues to improve slowly…
I was given the strength and knowledge to care
for my huband from Lovelia Perez, one of Ramsey’s best
friends (during the early 70s), and former Raza Unida Party
activist. Lovelia remained with me by telephone every
morning, noon, and night providing love, courage, compassion,
and the medical knowledge needed to help my husband survive
a very grave illness.
Lovelia Perez demonstrated the most unselfish act of placing
others before herself. Her beautiful heart and giving spirit
will never be forgotten. Lovelia (Mama Love) Perez, 66, of Austin, died
Sunday, Nov. 20, 2005, in Austin. She was born Nov. 20, 1939, in
McCulloch County, to Nemesio Perez, Sr. and Francisca (Aguirre) Perez.
She was a registered nurse and was Poly Spiritual. She attended SMU,
received a bachelor of science in nursing from the Texas Women’s
University in Denton and received a masters degree from South West
Texas State University in San Marcos. Survivors include her mother, Francisca Perez of San Angelo; a son,
Carlos Gonzales of Austin; a daughter, Driana Gonzales, also of Austin;
and two sisters, Estela Perez Santos and husband, Manuel, of San Angelo
and Berta Perez Linton, also of San Angelo. She was preceded in death
by her father; and two brothers, Nestor and Nemesio Perez, Jr. The
family requests memorials be made to The Christopher House in Care of
Hospice of Austin. Her obituary can be accessed online.
Lovelia Perez was an angel sent by God to teach us real love and
compassion, and to help save a man whose message she embraced and
shared with others. In a letter to Ramsey she wrote, "Some people want
to talk about La Raza, but I tell them they cannot discuss La Raza
without you. Whether they like it or not, you are our history — our
hero. Have you done research as to how manmy times people have used
your name on their books or their articles? We have won the war of the
tortilla. HEB makes tortillas better than some Mexicanos, and that
includes me. We have won the color war. It’s okay now to have a pink,
purple, or green house. We have made progress in the food and language
wars, but it’s the spiritual war that we are so behind in."
We dedicate the poem below to our dear friend, Lovelia Perez.
–Irma Muniz (Nov. 27, 2005)
I languish in this world of woe and tears.
Bleak is my exile, heavy are my shackles and chains
on this day of remembrance in the darkness
of this medieval dungeon.
I rest my eyes and soul.
I voyage to a far and distant land that was ours long ago.
Here I gaze into the colors that are not rare to me.
As I journey further with the spirits of this land,
I reach the clearing of the dark jungle;
I can envision the temples of Huitzilopotli and Quetzacoatl.
The day is August 13, 1521. There stood Cuauhtemoc,
he who is pure, who died in war for us,
he who lives close to the sixth sun — the valiant Mexika
What a magnificent sight it was, for he lives
in the house of the sun, a place of wealth and joy.
He, like a fine burnished turquoise, gave his heart.
It arrived at the place of the sun where it will germinate,
once again to blossom into the Rising of the Sixth Sun.
When I gazed into the eyes and heart of Cuauhtemoc
I could sense the consciousness of our Mexika birth-soul.
I perceived the pride and dignity of my native ancestors
within me — the sixth sun rose.
I walked with Cuauhtemoc up the temple steps that reached
I was in the shadow of our past, present and future of our
I witnessed the suffering, sorrow, pain, misery, hunger,
and sacrifices on that ancient historical day.
But as I voyaged further into what is above us, Topan,
and in the region of the dead, Mictlan,
the winds from the four directions of the universe sang a
sweet song to my heart and I rejoiced when I gazed into
the faces of our destined heroes in my dreams.
For you see, when I’m in the realm of my forefathers and
ancestors, I fear nothing and take pleasure in their
presence of this sixth sun.
It is this transformation and reformation of my indigenous
Mexika spirituality I long to know — an ancient history
concealed and denied for 500 years.
Yet within me does the rage of thousands build for the many
sorrows, hardships, and sacrifices my forefathers endured.
There is no rest for my soul (Mexicayotl) until the
manifestations of the rising of the sixth sun appears
among our people.
My Mexika brothers and sisters, all my world is caged
and confined yet my spiritual birth-soul runs free.
"Wait, Cuauhtemoc, for I am coming."
August 13, 1999
"It is not true, it is not true
That we have come
To live here,
We came only to sleep
Only to dream…"
Facsimile Ed. Mexico City: Antonio Penafiel