March 13.
Today is my grandfather's birthday. I write blogs all the time, don't edit them, leave them as drafts... you know.....
Today is a little different, I'm off from work, I'm in a great mood, I feel like I should praise a man that I love so much.
Here's a little more about me:
The Gonzalez side of my family is very "particular". To put it very lightly, we consist of mostly strong personalities that usually don't speak the same language, and all like to speak at the same time. Yeah, I think that pretty much sums it up. I love my family, but for years, could not UNDERSTAND our family dynamics. As I have gotten older, I have come to realize and understand why people are the way they are. That's a whole other blog.
One thing is for sure, we all came from Rafael Gonzalez. There are so many adjectives I could use to describe my abuelito, but I rather share some stories.
Oh and another thing, I am so grateful to have had him enough time in my life to gather these memories. He also passed at an age that I was able to understand what was going on and I was also able to appreciate my grandpa.
I'm not sure if my dad would ask him to, or if he just wanted to, but he used to pick me up from school every single day, (even though Garza is literally my backyard) and just talk to me. He always had an opinion about something and somehow knew a little something about EVERYTHING. I remember him asking me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I always said I wanted to be a singer. He responded by saying for me never to be a lawyer because they're "cabrones" (haha). He'd come inside my house and ask me for a glass of water and drink it so happily, saying that our water was the best water he had ever tasted.
I laugh thinking about how he always stole extra blue straws from Jack-In-The-Box because he always liked to have a little extra. As a little girl, my grandparents would take me to Klink's for breakfast and after he'd always go to a store called La Mac, which was next door. His endless collection of pocket knives and fake miniature dogs .. hahaha so cute. He loved food so much! I remember his last meal before he had to be on a strict diet because he became diabetic. He savored it so deliciously. My favorite memories of him were with a guitar or with little tears in his SUPER beautiful eyes from laughing so hard.
One time he bought me a pack of pencils and told me that the pencils were for me, but the pencil sharpener they came with was his because he liked it. I thought it was so funny. Or how he used to put pieces of corn tortillas or bread outside to feed the birds. He would also feed the stray cats, until one day one of the cats gave birth in my dad's furniture store. He was so pissed. hahahaaha
My grandpa never failed to have some kind of fruit on hand. He was always peeling something delicious.
One of the things that always caught my attention was his stare. My grandpa had the most beautiful eyes in this world. I look for eyes like that all the time and find comfort in knowing that one day I will see them again.
When he started getting older and his heart started giving out, my parents and I took him to Houston for surgery. Even though his chances were slim, he made it through. I had experienced hospitals before because of my dad, but I had never been allowed to see someone I loved, so weak, and so close to death. I was allowed to see him because they thought he would die during that trip. He fucking survived. Which brings me to my next point.
My father's health condition has also made my father a fighter. My dad has cut it close many times, but somehow always pulls through. They're both survivors with soft hearts. Even the last time my dad cut it close, he bounced back. Look at him now making fun of my hair and shit. ;)
I was angry for a long time after he died. Someone gathered our most treasured photos of him to put together a video collage and never gave them back. I was livid. I wanted the pictures SO BADLY. I asked nicely, I asked rudely, I asked a million times, and NEVER got them back. As I grew older, I realized that I did not need those pictures anymore. I did not need to pictures to remind me of my grandfather. My grandpa lives through me. Another thing I noticed is the similarities between him and my father, little by little, I notice small, but significant things that they have in common. I like to think that I have a version 2.0 of my grandpa, in my dad, which is so comforting on so many levels. Fuck the pictures, those don't mean shit once you place value in PEOPLE, not pieces of paper. Like I said, I don't need them anymore.
I selfishly want him here today. I realize that this world is too ugly for someone as beautiful as him. I hope he didn't suffer too much in life, and if he did, he didn't show it. Somehow he always had a boyish smile on his face and a little pep in his step. I can almost smell him sometimes. I know he's around. I know he's taking care of us.
Happy birthday to my abuelito, Rafael Gonzalez, mi angelito.
