Julius Frausto

With deep love and heavy hearts, we celebrate the life of Julius Ceasar Frausto, lovingly known as JC, who passed away on September 23, 2025, at the age of 22.

Julius was born on July 13, 2003, in Chicago to his loving parents, Silvia Frausto and the late Jesse Frausto Jr. At birth, Julius was diagnosed with Lissencephaly, a rare neurological condition. Doctors said he likely wouldn't live past the age of two but Julius defied expectations and lived a remarkable 22 years.

From the very beginning, his devoted mother became his greatest advocate, dedicating herself to understanding his condition and giving him the fullest life possible. Her love and dedication shaped Julius's world and allowed him to thrive in ways thought impossible.

Though Julius could not speak, he communicated powerfully with his eyes, always aware of who was in the room, and connecting with his loved ones in quiet but profound ways. He loved music and lights, and the simple joy they brought lit up his days and the hearts of those around him.

Julius was surrounded not only by the love of his family, but also by a dedicated team of nurses who cared for him throughout his life. They became part of his extended family, ensuring he was safe, comfortable, and always treated with dignity and love. Their care made a lasting impact, and his family will be forever grateful for the role they played in his journey.

Julius is survived by his mother, Silvia Frausto, and his siblings: sisters Jesenia Elizabeth Frausto, Julianna D. Frausto, and brother Jesse James Frausto. Loving uncle to his nephews Matthew, Lucas, and Sincere. He is also survived by his grandparents, aunts, and uncles, who will always hold him dearly in their hearts. He now reunites in peace with his father, Jesse Frausto Jr., and his beloved abuelito.

Julius's life was a powerful testament to resilience, love, and the strength found in the smallest moments. He taught all who knew him to love deeply, live patiently, and find joy in unexpected places. His light will forever shine in the hearts of his family.

As we reflect on Julius's journey, we are reminded of a poem that beautifully captures the experience of unexpected challenges and the discovery of unexpected beauty, "Welcome to Holland" by Emily Perl Kingsley. It tells the story of planning a trip to Italy, but landing in Holland instead, a place that is different, sometimes harder, but still breathtaking in its own way.

Welcome to Holland by Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel.

It's like this…

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Colosseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says:

"Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!" you say. "What do you mean Holland? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place full of pestilence, famine, and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guidebooks. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you begin to notice that Holland has windmills... Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say, "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very, very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy,

you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things... about Holland.