Obituary for Marion Rodriguez Sanders
“Poochie/Ricky/Latif/Marion’s Story”
I’d like to thank you all sincerely for coming today for sharing, and especially for listening, to the voice of an aching heart. The pain of my brother’s death cannot simply go away with just sincere condolences or an abundance of phone calls and texts. What makes it bearable is knowing that we are gathered here today because of the wonderful memories he left us. You came here to share in this homegoing celebration today because he was a loving son, a supportive brother, and an amazing friend. He left us a part of him that neither time nor even his death can take away.
Marion Rodriguez Sanders – (1961 – 2023)
Oh, my beloved brother when he was born on a steaming hot summers day, the 25th, of August 1961 – to our mom the late Mary Lucille Sanders – he became the butter of her toast! The cream of her coffee, her sugar and spice! On the other hand, our late dad Marion Monroe Sanders was his disciplinarian, and the force of his character. I was only six years old when he was born, but even as a baby I remember him suffering with Scarlet Fever. I was so afraid for his health.
As a child you held my hand when we crossed the street to Mrs. Swepson’s corner store. At that neighborhood store, we purchased chewing gum and tootsie rolls with the nickels given to us for completing our chores. You grew up and became the most annoying little person in my life. You played outside with your neighborhood friends and came in the house smelling like dirt. You teased me because I was always in the mirror – with a hairbrush handle for a mic pretending to be Diana Ross.
I remember you getting in trouble and then scooting/running between our mom’s legs trying to get away, and all she could do was laugh. Those antics were the first signs of the athlete you would soon become. I remember you being an integral member of Newark’s Flip City. You were always involved in one of your favorite sports – swimming, football, basketball, running track, and skating. Still coming in the house smelling as boys do. But, thank you, Lord, at least he loved soap and water!
As we grew older, the responsibilities of adulthood shipped us off in different directions. While I was becoming the person, I am today; my brother also began flourishing into a young adult. First, he graduated first from 13th Avenue School, then he graduated from Barringer High School in 1979. He left soon after graduating to begin a five-year program as a Communications Major at Northeastern University, in Boston Massachusetts. It was there he met a community of life long friends. In 1980 he became a member of GROOVE PHI GROOVE Social Fellowship Inc. He was now called, “Latif” or “La.” He had an abundance of pride becoming and being Groove Brother.
While in Boston he worked for New England Life as a Trainee Analyst. In addition to that, he worked at The American Creditors Bureau, where he trained to become an Assistant Broker.
Was my brother a Saint? Absolutely not! Was he a nice guy? Most definitely! He had a Heart of Gold. “To all of us who knew him, he was always there for us. One call of his name and he would be with you in a heartbeat. One mention that you were in need, he would give you his last penny. In this ever-changing world he was one constant. We could all picture him and his signature smile – always having our back.”
“I know my brother would hate to see us crying for him. He would want us to cling to the beautiful memories and forgive ourselves for whatever regrets we may have. He would like us to be strong through the darkest days ahead. That is what he always did. He exuded light, and strength, and positivity when it seemed impossible to go on.”
My brother leaves to mourn, an aunt - Sarah Clark, (Bayboro, NC); AUNT – Catherine Rich, (Bayboro, NC); UNCLE, James Mason, (Bayboro, NC); SISTER - Deborah Sanders, (Newark, NJ); A host of loving cousins, other relatives and friends...
VITA BREVIS
(Skillfulness takes time, and Life is Short)
“Peace, I leave with you; My peace I give to you... Let not your heart be troubled,
neither let it be afraid. Peace I leave.”
I’d like to thank you all sincerely for coming today for sharing, and especially for listening, to the voice of an aching heart. The pain of my brother’s death cannot simply go away with just sincere condolences or an abundance of phone calls and texts. What makes it bearable is knowing that we are gathered here today because of the wonderful memories he left us. You came here to share in this homegoing celebration today because he was a loving son, a supportive brother, and an amazing friend. He left us a part of him that neither time nor even his death can take away.
Marion Rodriguez Sanders – (1961 – 2023)
Oh, my beloved brother when he was born on a steaming hot summers day, the 25th, of August 1961 – to our mom the late Mary Lucille Sanders – he became the butter of her toast! The cream of her coffee, her sugar and spice! On the other hand, our late dad Marion Monroe Sanders was his disciplinarian, and the force of his character. I was only six years old when he was born, but even as a baby I remember him suffering with Scarlet Fever. I was so afraid for his health.
As a child you held my hand when we crossed the street to Mrs. Swepson’s corner store. At that neighborhood store, we purchased chewing gum and tootsie rolls with the nickels given to us for completing our chores. You grew up and became the most annoying little person in my life. You played outside with your neighborhood friends and came in the house smelling like dirt. You teased me because I was always in the mirror – with a hairbrush handle for a mic pretending to be Diana Ross.
I remember you getting in trouble and then scooting/running between our mom’s legs trying to get away, and all she could do was laugh. Those antics were the first signs of the athlete you would soon become. I remember you being an integral member of Newark’s Flip City. You were always involved in one of your favorite sports – swimming, football, basketball, running track, and skating. Still coming in the house smelling as boys do. But, thank you, Lord, at least he loved soap and water!
As we grew older, the responsibilities of adulthood shipped us off in different directions. While I was becoming the person, I am today; my brother also began flourishing into a young adult. First, he graduated first from 13th Avenue School, then he graduated from Barringer High School in 1979. He left soon after graduating to begin a five-year program as a Communications Major at Northeastern University, in Boston Massachusetts. It was there he met a community of life long friends. In 1980 he became a member of GROOVE PHI GROOVE Social Fellowship Inc. He was now called, “Latif” or “La.” He had an abundance of pride becoming and being Groove Brother.
While in Boston he worked for New England Life as a Trainee Analyst. In addition to that, he worked at The American Creditors Bureau, where he trained to become an Assistant Broker.
Was my brother a Saint? Absolutely not! Was he a nice guy? Most definitely! He had a Heart of Gold. “To all of us who knew him, he was always there for us. One call of his name and he would be with you in a heartbeat. One mention that you were in need, he would give you his last penny. In this ever-changing world he was one constant. We could all picture him and his signature smile – always having our back.”
“I know my brother would hate to see us crying for him. He would want us to cling to the beautiful memories and forgive ourselves for whatever regrets we may have. He would like us to be strong through the darkest days ahead. That is what he always did. He exuded light, and strength, and positivity when it seemed impossible to go on.”
My brother leaves to mourn, an aunt - Sarah Clark, (Bayboro, NC); AUNT – Catherine Rich, (Bayboro, NC); UNCLE, James Mason, (Bayboro, NC); SISTER - Deborah Sanders, (Newark, NJ); A host of loving cousins, other relatives and friends...
VITA BREVIS
(Skillfulness takes time, and Life is Short)
“Peace, I leave with you; My peace I give to you... Let not your heart be troubled,
neither let it be afraid. Peace I leave.”