Alexander Umana, a beloved son, brother, father, uncle, and friend to many. Born on September 15,1972 and passed away at home with family by his side on November 29th, 2022. Alex will be forever loved and greatly missed.
His memory will be kept alive by his four children: Alexander Umana Jr., Julian Umana, Alyssa Umana and Liam Hensley; Mother Alejandra Palma; Siblings Grace Molz (Jason), Julio Umana (Sandy); Nieces Julia Umana and Alexandra Umana.
Alex had the unique flare for making friends wherever he went and through all of the chapters in his life. So, it was no surprise that he found his calling in sales, in which he had great success. Some of his other joys were spending time with his children, doting on his mother, cruising on his motorcycle, and rooting for his favorite team, the Cubs.
Alex was a free spirit, made his own rules and lived his life to the fullest. It would be his wish for us to celebrate his life with the same zest, authenticity, and moxie. The best way to honor Alex is to always cherish family and friends.
The wake will be held on Saturday December 3rd, at Gibbons Family Funeral Home from 1:00pm to 6:00pm, with the service beginning at 5:00pm prompt.
Flowers can be sent to the funeral home or contributions can be made to Alex’s favorite charity.
Gibbons Family Funeral Home
5917 W. Irving Park Rd.
Chicago IL 60634
One thought on “Alexander Umana”
Death Is Nothing At All
in Famous Death Poems
Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you,
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just round the corner.
All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again