Wednesday, March 5, 2008

yellow submarine

"don't tell my brother i'm coming to colorado!" i've heard my grandma tell me this story a dozen times. she's just started to relax at my mom's cousin's house in loveland. she's dipping back into a recliner when aunt jennifer (my mom's cousin, but my aunt? i like to call her that) peers out the window. "aunt virginia!" i imagine her popping up from her chair just when they are settling in for a good visit, "you won't believe what just pulled up in the driveway!? the yellow submarine!"

that's uncle freddy. start the enchiladas and pork, green chile stat. uncle alfred has just rolled up in his yellow cadillac. don't put your feet up yet, grandma. and he loves desert!

it's not the first time my beloved great-uncle secretly escaped from the lush, mora valley of new mexico to pursue an unannounced adventure. alfredo roybal, my grandma's older and only brother, lived a life of adventure in new mexico and california and who knows where else. apparently, all of the state patrol officers in NM knew him, so he only received "warnings" for such infractions as falling asleep at the wheel..."Wouldn't you fall asleep if you were my age?" he was known to retort to officers. And we won't mention the recent cantaloupe delivery job, nor the "littering" of "travel size" liquor bottles out the car window... couldn't he get fined for that, jasmine?

but this week our uncle freddy passed on from this world at the age of 89. he was on another adventure in california, visiting my grandma, mom, and her sisters, when things went downhill. it was a difficult few weeks for my family, but everyone had a chance to say "good bye." and i am most glad for my mom who got to whisper in his ear (even though he was unconscious) about the Lord's amazing and eternal provision for him should he so choose.

this is the last time i got to see uncle freddy. he came by with his friend/driver, gustavo from chihuahua, mex., on his way to albuquerque. he plopped onto the chair in our bedroom. n was resting in bed. he leaned on me to take a tour of our house- his right leg was severely weakened from a stroke. he grasped my dear friend jan's (loro-bean's mom who was visiting/helping that weekend) hand and gazed into her eyes welcoming her to visit mora anytime. the man LUUVVED women!

as we rounded the house out to the car. he whispered to me, "this guy thinks he's gonna drive!" pointing to gustavo hopping into the driver's seat of the yellow submarine. still leaning heavily on me, he led me to gustavo's window and ordered him in spanish to get over, he's driving. gustavo faithfully replied in spanish, "no, no tengo permiso de orlando (uncle freddy's son- alfredo is NOT supposed to drive at all)." good job, gustavo. you tried. but as gustavo started to slide over to the passenger side and i began to look at uncle freddy's limp right leg, hence worn down rubber shoe and sizable will, i began to pray. "no, uncle freddy, you can't drive." he jerked away from me dramatically: "am i going to hate you like the rest of them!?" i laughed. he had just been telling me i was "so nice..." i told him i could only have so many men to worry about and with my husband in bed with a broken back it just wasn't fair to do this to me. with that, a prayer, a hug, kiss, and i love you, uncle freddy conceded and wallowed to the passenger's side of the vehicle.

...or did he??? just a several weeks later when hil and i were out on errands, n home sick, and me with a sneaking i-can-just-imagine-uncle-freddy-rolling-up-today-for-some-reason feeling in my gut, i came home to one of nathanael's blunt reports.

"uncle freddy came by today."

"what? by himself!" this was echoed back and forth several times.

"yes. i was walking down the road and this guy in an old cadillac was looking all confused so i..."

"i can't find roxie's house... are you her neighbor?"

"no, i'm her husband." etc.

"gee. i don't recognize you. you were so weak last time." etc.

he made an atole (ah-toe-lay~gringo lingo) delivery. it's a roasted (organic, mind you) blue corn meal straight from my grandma's tia adelina's farm in el carmel (a valley near mora). it makes a delicious hot breakfast. but don't try it anywhere but from tia adelina's farm because according to my grandma, it sucks everywhere else. anyhow, the cargo was delivered, n was the only witness, and uncle freddy enjoyed some freedom. who could blame him? and nobody knew about his little trip out to lamy that day...

...until i blabbed to grandma etc.

as n pondered the news on monday, the day uncle freddy passed, he softly concluded: "wow. so i guess i was the last one to see him....... of the three of us-you, me and mom."

gotta love that n-man. gotta love uncle freddy.

both unstoppable...sort of.