Angelico Mosura Nacanaynay
Age 90
![image of Angelico Nacanaynay](https://cdn.bartonfuneral.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/26143826/Angelico-Nacanaynay-253x300.jpg)
Angelico Nacanaynay
Angelico Nacanaynay. Dad, Daddy, Tito, Lolo, Papa, Tatay Lico, Angel. He was born on August 12, 1933. He died peacefully in his sleep on August 24, 2023. He is preceded in death by his beautiful wife and our Mom, Othelia, his parents, Flaviano and Benita, and his siblings, Cornelio, Jose, Monseratt, Leovigildo and Romeo. He is survived by his sister, Trinidad Nacanaynay Boloron. His children and their families: Vincent and Agnes, Patrick, Claire and Mary; Ramon; Benita and Winston, Francis and Lauren, Sabina; Jose Maria and Ana, Marianne, Jakob; Jesus Maria and Ruth, Danielle, Darielle and Hosea. And our adopted siblings, JI and Adelyn Marie.
Dad graduated from Miagao High School and spent some time with his brothers in Manila, and soon after he joined the US Navy. He retired from the Navy in 1975 and went back to school to get his college degree in Commerce at the University of San Agustin. He went back to federal service with the Military Sealift Command, continuing to proudly serve his adopted country. He finally retired in 1999 and spent his time with Mom visiting the children and traveling the world. They settled down in Barangay Malagyan, Miagao and truly enjoyed volunteering their time and resources with the community. Daddy loved Malagyan. He would tell many stories of his time as a young teenager – farming the land with his carabao, Kapon. We’re going to miss him telling those stories.
Funeral Mass will be at St. Brendan Catholic Church, Bothell, WA on Friday, Sept. 1st at 12:30pm. Cremation will immediately follow after the mass. Interment of his cremains will be on Monday, Sept. 4 at 9:30 am with military honors at Tahoma National Cemetery, Kent, WA.
In lieu of flowers a donation to your local Catholic parish, Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center, Seattle, or your local Veterans organization in Dad’s name would be greatly appreciated.
12 Responses to “Angelico Mosura Nacanaynay”
Leave a Reply
Please be respectful. Disrespectful comments will not be published
When you have successfully submitted a comment, look in the space above to see your comment.
Your comment is awaiting moderation.
If you do not see your comment, click HERE
I’m so deeply sorry for the loss of your dad, my uncle. May all of you find strength & solace in the memories he shared. And May his presence will always be felt & his love will continue to surround all of you. We love you cousins & know that you’re alone in your grief.
I knew it was coming but I still can’t really wrap my head around it. Lolo Angel, I love you so much and I wish I was there but I’m thankful I got to spend time with you on your 90th. Thank you for all the ice cream a 6 year old could ask for (aka all the pretty colors at Baskin Robbins) and all the donuts ❤️ and thank you for signing the contract I made out at 8 that promised you wouldn’t cheat at cards 😅
I know I have another angel watching me and I love you so much Lolo. I’m happy you get to be with Lola again ❤️
We only met a few times but the love you showed to your family will never be forgotten. Thank you for the service to our country in the Navy and in civilian life. Your demeanor and caring will not be forgotten. Rest In Peace Mr. Nacanaynay. Sincere condolences to your family.
Lolo was always there for our family, even if he was miles away.
I didn’t realize how far away I felt from Lolo until I was older, and one English assignment in my junior year of high school helped me grow closer to him. We were assigned to write a “Family Lore Essay” about any of our ancestors and how their lives affected our current families today. I wrote about Lolo’s time in the US Navy, because that was one aspect of his life I felt that much of the family didn’t know about in detail.
I spent hours calling Lolo over the phone, and he got so excited and began speaking so fast! There are details about his life that didn’t make it into my essay, but the essence of his passions, his love for his two countries, and his love for us did make it.
Creating a collection of his stories helped me honor and understand who Lolo was, who I am, why I (and our whole family) are Americans, and why I’ve always believed so strongly in the beautiful power of hard work. As I quoted in my essay, “In time there seems to develop between each man and his ship a kind of rapport, a feeling in each man’s heart that his ship is a good ship, that she can do her job. And through all the rough times and hard work she is his ship—a ship he can be proud of . . .” (In Memory of USS Kawishiwi AO146). Although Lolo did not speak these words himself, I like to imagine his life and family as his own ship–-one he still watches over and cares for.
It doesn’t feel real yet, Lolo. You were just here, surprised I hadn’t been to Boracay yet, and telling me that once you were stronger, we’d go back together and you’d show me around everywhere. When we were driving back to your house in Miag-ao, you pointed to the big rock at the top of the mountain in the distance, and told me all about how we’d go there, even though we would have to venture into the forest without a path.
You’ve always been so strong, Lolo, whether it was taking the stairs all the way to the top of Garin Farm, or with what came after your diagnosis. I’m glad you get to finally rest with Lola, but I’ll miss you so much, and will always carry your courage, bravery, and strength with every new adventure that comes along. I love you ❤️
It was the little moments spending time with Lolo, watching war movies 12-year-old me probably shouldn’t have been and listening to his stories, which have stuck with me.
One time, I scrolled through the DVDs in his TV stand to find a season of the comedy show C.P.O. Sharkey. Together, we chuckled, Lolo sometimes cracking up, as Sharkey dished out insults and the misshapen, often confused, recruits nervously responded. The veneer of military professionalism seemed stripped away.
I always found it interesting that out of all the gritty movies on life in trenches or battleships, Lolo noted it was this comedy show he related to. Accordingly, I like to think that past his hardened military image lied a peppery spirit. In addition to being a war-tested veteran, he was youthful and happy.
For me, such memories will be regarded as time well spent in his company. I’ll miss you Lolo.
I consider myself lucky to have been able to have Lolo around when I was very young. I remember my parents dropping me off at their house in Puyallup, and there Lolo and Lola would have me run rampant, well as rampant as I could be as a four-year old. Back then as a child, I was incredibly into baseball. It was my favorite sport. I would pour myself into learning stats, players, everything I could, and I have to thank Lolo for sharing in my joy and my passion. Lolo and I would watch on the television as the Mariners played, and I would relay to him my favorite fun facts. He didn’t ignore me or tell me to stop. He would listen and smile. He might not have understood as I spoke faster than the speed of sound, but he still listened to me. Then when the game was done, or even if it was still going on, I would ask him to play baseball with me, and Lolo would say yes. He would don a baseball cap, and go out with me onto the grass in the backyard, and pitch while I attempted to swing a bat that was probably just as heavy as I was back then.The same routine, just a simple pitch, a hit, if I’m lucky, and I would run around the “bases” which were just big rocks I found. Who knows how long we would do this. For me, it seemed like forever.
It’s the kindness and the care of Lolo which always stuck out to me. He was always so interested in us, his grandchildren, and of course his own children as well. He showed me how to love, how to share in the joys that others had, something I really take to heart today. I will always carry those early memories with me, and so I will always carry Lolo with me.
I was in the middle of moving when I learned that Lolo had passed away. I cried in the middle of a supermarket because I didn’t have any internet anywhere else. And after crying, I prayed and I continued my day because I had too many things to get done.
Friends around me would ask if I was close to my grandfather, and I would answer that I could always feel how much he loved me. How much he loved everything in his life. I felt how much he loved every one of his grandchildren, his children, and Lola.. When I think of Lolo, I think of quiet walks in the garden, the telling of long stories, and an intense kindness. I remember his pride in his accomplishments and of every member of his family. He was proud of his family he had built, and the home that was waiting for us to be with him.
I last saw Lolo during Christmas time. And personally, I’m happy he got to see me enjoy the food he enjoyed, and see me drive at his request, and hear me be excited to bring my friends around one day. Because when I think of being with Lolo, all I remember is being loved, protected, and encouraged and that gives me strength and wonder to live my life with. So I hope I can get things done in his way that was full of pride and love.
Lolo lived far away from us, so whenever he visited, we always went sightseeing. We showed him all the various museums and monuments and memorials in Washington DC. When we weren’t touring, he would share all sorts of stories, both long ago and recent, and they would all be funny. When we visited the Philippines, he would show us around. He showed us not just the tourist attractions, but also the local school and the fields and the houses. Lolo was always happy to see us and he was always eager to share his joy and his love. Thank you Lolo, and I love you so much.
The last time I visited the house in Iloilo, Lolo immediately took us around, pointing at every fruit growing in the trees. He would weave himself through overgrown brush and start harvesting atis. Later, in one of our last conversations, I had just come back from a trip to Brazil. I was telling Lolo how similar it is to the Philippines. We ended up talking about fruit for a while because I remembered how he would keep collecting atis for us to eat. He told me about those fruit trees again. How delicious they were and how bountiful the trees were. Every morning, I remember he would point at a bowl of just harvested fruit and offer it up. It seemed so simple, a bowl of fruit on the table…but the effort to get it on the table told me one thing—Lolo felt the need to always take care of everyone. Not just with his family, but his community. And he enjoyed doing it! He was so earnest and deliberate in making sure we were all okay. So, I had told him in our last conversation, “Lolo, all of cousins are doing good. We’re all okay.” We love you and we miss you.
Lolo Iko often spoke of his time in the Navy, recalling memories in the base, the ship, even just the canteen. He spoke of his time having to go through firefighter training in California, how he realized how short he was compared to his American compatriots and declared that he can’t swim as water filled the ship, getting his driving license in the base. I remember the times I was seated with Lolo, be it at home or after taking a break after a walk through Ikea or a park, and we just talked. He would ask me how I am and I would tell him of the little things that I did or happened, and he would say good and it would evolve to sharing stories. I was always fascinated by the stories he told as someone who lived through history and just learning how he felt and what he was thinking of during those times. He talked about moments in his life both big and small with light in his eyes and a fondness in his voice and then we would laugh. We would laugh at his little acts of mischief growing up, I would make a joke, he would laugh and nod as he drove home how fun those times were. Then he would tell me I could join the Navy as an officer, be safe, and enjoy great benefits, to which I would laugh and reply with “who knows, maybe.” Listening to him and being with him was always a source of warmth and comfort that would forever stay with me. I love you, Lolo, I miss you.
When visiting Lolo, he would often ask me what grade I’m in and how I’m doing in school. I usually gave a direct answer saying my grade and that I’m doing good. While my response was not thorough, he would reply with, “very good, very good”, and follow up with a story of himself when he was in school. One of those stories, he talked about joining the Navy and how it was important for him to finish his course. Lolo had a friend in high school who dropped out early while Lolo stayed in school. When Lolo graduated and his friend turned 18, his friend was ecstatic to join the Navy, enrolling at the same time as Lolo. When they both applied, Lolo qualified to join while his friend got denied. His friend told him that he was denied because he had not finished high school. While his friend ended up joining a different branch of the military, Lolo ended the story there and told me that once I finish one course, that’s good, and if you can, take another. When you finish one course, it gives you the opportunity to do more. Lolo’s stories are truly inspiring and will forever motivate me.