Waleska Gonzalez

Your presence is deeply missed.

In Loving Memory of Waleska Gonzalez

Beloved Daughter, Sister, Aunt, and Mother at Heart
Waleska Gonzalez was the cherished daughter of Sara Gonzalez Narvaez and the late Manuel Gonzalez, and the middle sibling to her older brother, Manuel, Jr., and younger sister, Marilyn.

Born into a Puerto Rican family that settled in New York, Waleska grew up bilingual, often serving as a bridge between her parents and the English-speaking world.

As a young woman, Waleska spent time in Virginia, where she fell in love with the beauty of the state and the refreshing cold weather. She had a deep appreciation for the arts and simple pleasures—she loved dancing, eating out (especially Chinese food), attending theater performances, listening to music, and watching figure skating. Her favorite figure skater was Val Joe “Rudy” Galindo.

Professionally, she worked as a Secretary for the Children’s Aid Society in Manhattan for many years, a position she truly cherished, where her kindness and dedication made a lasting impression.

But Waleska’s greatest legacy lies not in her professional accomplishments, but in the love she gave so freely. She had the heart of a mother—selfless, nurturing, and unwavering. As a teenager, she cared for her younger sister through serious health challenges.

Later in life, she made profound sacrifices—giving up a career, romance, marriage, travel, and personal freedom—to become a full-time mother figure to three children who weren’t biologically hers: her nephew, Manny Gonzalez (Manuel, Jr.’s son), and her nieces, Valeska and Christina Santana (Marilyn’s daughters). She returned to live with her parents to provide the children with a stable, loving home, ensuring that language would never be a barrier.

Eventually, Waleska relocated with her family to Puerto Rico, where she continued to raise Christina and took on part-time jobs to help support her household. Always focused on being productive, gravitating towards children, she also helped her aunt, Iris Narvaez, with her grandchildren— Derick, Denzel, Justin, Ryan, and Jaden with their schoolwork, offering her time, patience and encouragement.

But Waleska’s love wasn’t limited to children—she cared deeply for so many others. She was a pillar of strength during life’s hardest moments, caring for her father through his hospice days until his passing. She later tended to her beloved aunt, Iris, until her passing. She had also been a constant, loving caregiver to her aging mother and her sister as well for many years.

Within the last two years, Waleska's sister faced another health crisis, resulting in Valeska and Christina pivoting their lives to help relocate their mother and provide support. Unfortunately, their mother’s health issues extended to months, ultimately leading Waleska to move with her mother from Puerto Rico in 2024 to support her sister during her recovery phase. It was during this time Waleska was diagnosed with cancer. Yet, despite her own diagnosis, she remained a steadfast caregiver, continuing to offer unwavering support to both her elderly mother and sister.

Waleska’s love was tireless. Her sacrifices were many. And her heart was that of pure gold.

Waleska is survived by her widowed mother, Sara, her sister, Marilyn, her brother, Manuel, Jr., and the children she embraced as her own Manny, Valeska, and Christina.

Thank you for remembering Waleska with us.

In lieu of flowers, you may honor Waleska’s memory by donating to her burial on gofundme via the link below. 
https://gofund.me/3a3f7547

"Missing you"
a poem written by Valeska

I remember
your look.
Black blazer,
Shoulder pads,
Heels, a skirt.
Your hair,
thick and black,
moussed up,
curls intact.
At home,
waves pulled back
in rollers
all wrapped
or in a doobie
pinned flat.
Bangs.
No bangs.
Long hair.
Short hair.
Straight.
Curly.
Moisturizer,
light makeup,
dressed up.
The joy you had
typing away
on ‘Bring your daughter
to workday.’
I wasn’t your daughter,
but I was happy
all the same.
Typing away
on the typewriter.
Listening
to every key,
so soothing to me.
Pressing return,
paper rolled up
for more words.
Kshhh! New line-
I remember
your announcement,
your picture.
New look, no hair.
I cried. I hoped
to rewrite your story.
I tried, but it moved
quickly ahead,
reaching the end.
Paper rolled out,
’til there was nothing left.

Gallery

Memory wall

Favorites

Donate