Emilio Navarrete was born in Guanajuato, Mexico, not an easy life born in an era of hardship. His family was forced to give him up to an orphanage, which was a church where Emilio learned the life of Catholicism and wanted to eventually become a priest. He was a happy choir boy who was playful and full of life and mischief, stealing change from the donations to buy candy for all the other orphan children.
At some point, his mother came to pull him out of the orphanage, but he would escape his home and go back to the orphanage until they moved to Mexico City.
He grew up in an area of Mexico City called Nezahualcoyotl, where he would spend his afternoons running his mother’s shop and going to school, eventually becoming a sales rep for Bardahl Motors and Johnson & Johnson/L’Oreal, winning best sales rep of the year several times.
He lived in Chicago in his late 20s, working for a vinyl record place where his biggest pressing project was the Beatles’ “Let It Be.” Wanting to return home to look after his mother, he left the love of his life and went back to Mexico City after surviving a car crash in the snow.
After graduating from UNAM University with a business degree in sales, he had a one-night stand that resulted in an unplanned child. Despite this, he continued his career in sales, traveling around the country. He went on to have two more children with the same woman before moving on.
He met my mother when he was 38, and she was in her late 20s. They fell in love and produced a child, Christopher Leyva Navarrete. They had 8 happy years before Emilio left again to the United States to find a better life for him and his family. He continued to provide for and look after his new family and old family, never missing a check or a birthday. He eventually returned to Mexico and took his son Christopher to America in 1988.
He worked different jobs and continued to build a life for himself and his son. After the divorce, he took it hard but continued to set a good example for his son by never smoking or drinking.
In 1994, he began dating a troubled woman with a secret life working for the drug cartel and being a sex worker. He continued a relationship with her for years until she was arrested during a routine car check on the border. He took it hard, going back and forth with this troubled woman in a life of crime. Eventually, after a 5-year absence, she returned to his life in 2013, but she passed sometime in 2018.
Emilio continued to push forward, but his son and many friends were aware of the situation. He became a father figure to her daughter and her daughter’s children, but they continued to extort him until his son Christopher, with the assistance of Adult Protective Services and a lawyer, broke him free from their influence.
He left to Europe to finish his last days healing from a stroke he suffered under the abuse of this family. He lived in England, France, Australia, and Hawaii before eventually settling in West Hills, CA, under protective custody.
Despite his existing health issues, he was able to enjoy his last days in peace, luxury, and love. Vanessa, the nurse from the skilled nursing facility, became his best friend, healing him, loving him, and making him a part of her family.
Eventually, she would be one of three beautiful women who would be by his side as he passed on December 15th, 2024, at 11:13 pm at West Hills Hospital in Los Angeles, CA.
Emilio’s life is marked by the love and dedication he gave to his family, the church he volunteered at, and the many people he helped throughout his life. He spent his last few years looking after other seniors and helping them with medicines and shopping, a true saint. He also planted many gardens, both in the ground and in the hearts of all the people he loved.
He was a great friend, father, and child of God who would entertain every friend with a song and serenade every beautiful woman that passed him by.
Rest well, dad! This is not goodbye, as you would say, “God Is Great! And he always finds a way.”
Rest well, old man, and may the gardens of heaven greet you in light.
