Irma Jean Lupo
12/29/1946 – 07/08/2026
Irma Jean Gonzalez Lupo, was born on December 29, 1946, to Eufelino Trujillo and Mirta Mendez. From the very beginning, she had a spark about her — you can see it in the old photographs, that same smile, that same sparkle in her eyes that she never lost, not once, in nearly eighty years.
She graduated from Jefferson High School in 1964, and went on to build a long career working for Hertz Rent A Car at the airport before retiring. Anyone who worked alongside her will tell you the same thing — she brought warmth and personality to every single day on the job.
If you knew my mom, you knew that word instantly: vibrant. She didn’t walk into a room, she lit it up. She didn’t just love people, she loved them loudly, fully, with her whole heart — in the way she hugged you a little too long, in the way she remembered every detail of your life and asked about it every single time, in the way she’d tell you that you looked beautiful and somehow make you believe it.
She loved life. Genuinely, unapologetically loved it. She loved to travel — to see new places, new faces, new sunsets. She was always planning the next trip, the next adventure, always saying yes before she even knew the question. Ask anyone who traveled with her and they’ll tell you: it was never just a trip. It was an experience, and she made sure everyone around her had the time of their life.
She was beautiful — and I don’t just mean the woman in these photos with the movie-star hair and the smile that could stop a room. I mean beautiful in the way she carried herself, in the elegance she brought to every gathering, every gala, every ordinary Tuesday. She believed in getting dressed up for life, and she believed everyone deserved to feel like the most important person in the room.
My mom shared her life with two important men. My father, Dennis Gonzalez, and later, for the rest of her life, her husband, Sam Lupo, who went before her, along with his children and family. Together, across the chapters of her life, she built a family that meant everything to her. She was so proud to be a mother, a grandmother, and a great-grandmother — and she made sure every single one of us knew exactly how loved we were. She is survived by her only child, her daughter, Colette Fuller.
To me, she wasn’t just my mother — she was Mom. My person. The one I called about everything, the one who taught me how to be strong and how to love fiercely at the same time. My husband Eric loved her too, and watching her with our family was one of the great joys of my life.
She adored her grandchildren — Anthony Sapp, Raven Sims, and Bianca Gonzalez — and she loved nothing more than watching them grow into the wonderful people they are today. And in these last years, her heart grew even bigger, making room for her three great-grandchildren, who brought her a joy that words can’t fully capture. Being called “Great-Grandma” was one of her proudest titles.
Her brother, Bobby Gonzalez, shared with her a lifetime of memories that stretched all the way back to childhood — a bond that carried through every chapter of her life. And to Violeta Caccaatorie and family, to Silvia and Pepe Nunez and their children, to the Eufelino Trujillo and Ginesta family, and to the Mendez family — thank you for the years of love you gave her and the love she so happily gave back.
My mom had a way of making ordinary moments feel special. A cup of coffee with her turned into an hour of laughter. A phone call turned into a therapy session, a comedy show, and a pep talk all at once. She had opinions about everything — and she was usually right, and she definitely wanted you to know it.
If there’s one thing I want everyone to take from today, it’s this: live the way she did. Love loudly. Say yes to the trip. Get dressed up for no reason at all. Tell the people in your life that they’re beautiful, and mean it. Hug a little too long.