Querido Lilo

Mar7aba mar7aba habibis! Hola mis amigos queridos! Hello my beautiful friends! How is life so far? I have been well and have been traveling a bit and enjoying the beauty of life and the company of my wonderful friends. In previous posts, I often discuss my humble upbringing and my grandparents. The other night, I had a dream about my Grandpa Abel, or as I called him, my Lilo (short for Abuelito because I could not say Abuelito when I was a small toddler). Mi Lilo (my Grandpa Abel) came to the United States from Mexico for a better life. Like many Mexicans, he came to the United States through the Bracero program in California. This was a program where the United States sponsored manual laborers from Mexico to come and work in the US because of the labor shortage due to World War II.

Celebrating his 60th Birthday.

Lilo worked picking produce all over California and eventually settled on California’s beautiful Central Coast. He still picked strawberries and planted chili peppers, squash, and berries—which I would help him pick. He was everything I aspire to be. He was hardworking and never complained. I used to join him for his coffee at the kitchen table at 5 am every morning before he went to work and he’d tell me that hard work and an education could make any of my dreams come true. He also told me how he used to work from the age of 11 in Mexico’s sugar cane,banana, and coffee plantations to support his family. I also saw how well he managed his money and planned out his expenses and other things at the kitchen table. I wanted to be smart like him too.

He never set limits to my dreams and when I played baseball, he was PROUD of me. He’d say, “Wow, my Cielito (Spanish for Little Sky) can play with the boys”. He was calm and fair, but he was not afraid to set you on the right path. I remember complaining once, that I did not have what other people at school had and he gave me a good lecture, one that I will never forget. “My  Cielito, why do you complain and think about what you do not have, when you could be enjoying what you do have? We are not rich and are campesinos (farm laborers), but have I not provided you with food and a warm bed? You are beautiful my Cielito, but this behavior can deteriorate it all. I am grateful to whatever high power exists, that you are born here and have a chance to achieve whatever you desire. Did your Grandma Lila every tell you that you barely survived my Cieltio? You were born at 7 months and your lungs lacked oxygen and the doctors said you’d be doomed! You are a gift and always be grateful for life and for what you have. You are my gift.”

He was also a smart and a humble man. I never heard him raise his voice, ever! Even when people confronted him over petty things, he’d listen and his silence was wisdom alone. He’d talk things out. I always say I’m striving to be as calm as a Hindu cow and my Grandpa was like a holy Hindu cow.I miss hugging him and watching the news with him. I miss talking about the history of the world and quizzing him about Simon Bolivar and Napoleon Bonaprte. I miss walking with him to the little Mexican market to buy things and talk about the origin of certain fruits, spices, and other things. I miss talking about the different cultures and religions of the world and how he appreciated people from various backgrounds. He talked a lot about being discriminated against while looking for work in the 1960’s and 1970’s and how he traveled in a group of adult male blacks and hispanics up and down California for jobs and how they stuck together and backed each other up when they faced discrimination.  I guess I got a lot of my ruthlessness from him.

He passed away in Mexico in January 2014. He had been severely sick and had pneumonia and anorexia nervosa. My family and I tried everything to help him, but nothing had worked. A year or two prior to his anorexia getting severe, I used to beg him to eat . It’s kind of comedic, because he would get mad if I skipped a meal. A few days prior to his death, I had been with him for a few days (in Mexico) and I could barely hold back tears because he looked so frail and his legs were just a tad bigger than my arms. He was once a lean and healthy man, but now he weighed around 90 or so pounds at the time of his death. I did not want to make him sad by showing my sadness, so I’d show him pictures of all my travels and told him of my life plans to help the world. He could not speak much, but he managed to say, “I am so proud. You make me proud”. The night before he passed away, he had a fallen out of his bed. I ran to his bed side and hugged him up. I cried as I held him. I was holding my Lilo and it was as if he was dying in my arms. Here I was, 21 years old, hugging the man that once held me as a premature baby…seeing if I would survive. And now, I was hugging and crying hoping he’d see more days. He managed to feel better after his fall and that night, I prayed to every God I knew of…from the Lord, to Allah, to Krishna, and every angel I knew the names of and asked for him to feel better. The next morning, around 6 AM, he seemed better and very energized. I could hear him making jokes and I told him I was taking the bus into a town a few hours away to buy supplies for the house and that I would be back in the afternoon. He said to take care and I told him I loved him.

Lilo and Lila in Monte Alban, Oax, Mexico. 

Around 11 AM that morning, I got the news that he had passed away. I was sitting at a table having a cup of coffee with my cousin….just like  I used to  sit and have coffee with him.  I could not believe it…I could not react. The man that had raised me and loved me…a man who was the only father I had known, had passed away. I sat silent and my cousin and I rushed back to our pueblito (little town). I did not cry on the way back, I remember having flashbacks of my life with my Lilo. I even had the selfish thought, “Now who will walk me down the aisle when I get married?”. Once we got to my house, I saw my Grandma Lila. She was crying and wailing. She rushed over to me and said, Tu Papa se murio. Tu papa se murio (Your papa has died, your papa has died!) That’s when I cried. We arranged the funeral services and people came from near and far. Willy Loman, from Arthur Miller’s, A Death of a Salesman, would have been envious! People told great stories about him and many people cried. They loved him and I know he loved the people too.  I did not cry much after that. I felt this calm and peaceful feeling, as if everything was going to be ok, because it has been alright. I know he was no longer suffering and in a better place, he is free. I know we will see each other soon, whether it be in the afterlife or in another life, so I will be patient and make him proud. 

My Lilo’s life was one of a hardworking and patient man. He helped make me who I am today. I am not perfect and I make mistakes. I sometimes act without thinking or sometimes think too much without acting enough. But I am learning and loving the world. I can do anything because who is the world to tell me what I can and cannot do? Do you not know, I survived a premature birth, some beatings, and social adversity?! Now you do. Stay sane and humble my habibis!