The Man With White Hair

A big man with a head full of white hair, a white mustache to match, and eyes that always seemed to smile. That's how I choose to remember him. Looney Tunes, the Ten Commandments, and toys scattered across the dashboard. These the few things that always seem to remind me of him. A well kept yard with fruit trees. BBQing carne asada. That's what I recall whenever we visited him. I know so little about him and saw him only once in a blue moon. But I loved him and I know he loved me. I remember for my high school graduation he mailed me a gift. It was a simple '98 pendant and it came only with the name card from the announcements, but on the back was written a simple Spanish endearment. I may not remember what the word was now, but I still have that card in a memory box and I still remember what it meant to me the day I opened it. I was told he was once in a bar or something with John Wayne. I wonder what else he did. So much I didn't know. From what Mom tells me, he didn't tell her much either. It is a shame we couldn't have visited more often. Even when we finally got a vehicle that could make the drive, it was too late. Maybe one day I'll ask Mom to tell me more about Tata. He's had white hair for as long as I've known him. Always combed the same way. Always had the same mustache... His wardrobe was the same. Nothing ever changed. I swear his eyes always seemed to smile at me. Have you ever seen eyes that smile? I couldn't understand much of what he said. He spoke little English when we visited, and when he did, he had an accent that wasn't the easiest to understand. Still there were times I understood him better than the Spanish speakers at the table. Okay so they were rare, but I remember them. I remember one time when he came to visit. He stayed at our place that night. Used to his early morning rising, he got up and got ready. He left the front door open without any of us realizing. I was getting ready in my room and in walked this stray cat. All the way to my room it walked and no one had stopped it. When asked, Tata thought maybe it was our cat. Bold kitty, if you ask me. Cat shooed away, Tata all ready, the visit ended soon after. Always the way.. Short visits unless we were staying at his house in Calexico. I'm choosing to remember this man, whom I've always felt love from, the way I've written him to be. I pray that in time, I will forget the ugliness and hurt that surrounded his passing and the care taken after. Now I believe certain things. Jesus is my Lord and Savior. My body is mearely a temple for my spirit. And when we die that body is nothing but an empty shell. But the disrespect for his wishes and the people he loved was just ugly. So I pray I will forget it all and think only of the good memories of this big white haired man I called Tata. Note: For those of you who don't know... My Tata died four weeks ago this very day. He was my Mother's Father and he will be missed greatly.