BRAMANDO- eBOOK

Juan Vuittonet Jr. was my father.

He was born on a Wednesday, back in December 1920.

My father was born and raised during the last remnants of the South Texas frontier.

He was raised by his strict, disciplinarian parents, Sean (Juan) Sr. and Luisa, who struggled daily to make ends meet.

In the early 1960s, my Dad became somewhat affluent and was considered a "big farmer and rancher" (during the last few decades of the 20th century.)

My father bought a forty-acre plot of land in 1966 and created what is now known as "Vuittonet Ranch."

His farm operation expanded as more funds flowed, and he planted watermelons, cotton, and grain on 300 acres of farmland.

After buying a herd of incredibly expensive, full French, registered Charolais cattle...he also purchased the exotic game, emus, quail, earthworms, bullfrogs, and some exotic goats.

His knowledge of farming and his leadership qualities helped him garner many positions as a head foreman for Harbin Farms, Armandiaz Farms, Rio Farms Inc., and Engelmann Garden Inc., while at the same time running his farm enterprise and a make-shift vegetable "bodega."

When I moved to California in 1975, I took a job teaching Karate with the City of Fresno.

When I returned to Texas in 1985, Dad and I built my home on Vuittonet Ranch, which I lived in for eleven years, on a Bodega foundation he had been using to process vegetables.

It is affectionately known as the beach house due to its stilt construction. 

Until 2020, it was untouched for 35 years, until a hurricane decimated it.

The county road leading to Vuittonet Ranch is named after Dad. 

It was a common joke between us to say the road was named after me.

He encouraged me to study and stay away from manual labor by urging me to "get educated" - one idea that I agreed with and adopted because I had other plans for my life.

Over time, I matured and concluded that my father always gravitated to practical solutions and followed proven paths in all his business endeavors.

It is commonly referred to as having and applying common sense (a human quality rapidly disappearing over generations).

I was a spoiled, rebellious teenager in the 1960s who disliked his Dad's "bad attitude" and attempts to discipline me.

Moreover, as his son, I wrongly felt it was my right to exploit his generosity and enjoy worldly rewards.

Over the years, I have cherished my late parent's advice and wisdom and ultimately evolved into a staunch, practical, conservative entrepreneur.

My father remained lucid and conscious of place and self even as he succumbed to old age and debilitating illness.

My Dad outlived my mother by nine years.

My Dad often told me how proud he was of everything I had accomplished. 

He grew sad at the realization that I, too, was now elderly.

He was very proud that he had educated his children.

Unfortunately, my Dad died at the age of 98, unaccompanied, in his room, not more than twenty feet from my bedroom, at around 8 p.m. on May 1, 2019.

Dad's death came as a sudden and somewhat unexpected surprise to me.

As the years have passed, some grief has subsided, enabling me to retroactively reassess all the overt signs, interactions, and issues I missed or was unable to accept due to Dad's reassurances and adamant decision not to leave his home alive.

I subconsciously knew and suppressed the idea that his health was failing and refuted the optics of his death spiral.

When my mother died nine years earlier, I experienced these same feelings, but unlike Dad, we knew, including her, that she was terminally ill, on hospice, and could die at any time.

I actually "bought-in" to my Dad's contention and daily mantras (I'm getting.....etc..........