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.
6 comments:
I'm so glad you posted this!!!! I love those pictures and my mouth is watering for atole!
this is such a fantastic post, i'm really glad i was able to see him before he passed (especially while he bossed bama around).
Hello, I don't know you and you don't know me, but we are probably (distant) related. We visited your tio alfredo last August 2007 in Mora while we were there for a Trujillo family reunion. My grandparents were Anastacio and Eloisa Trujillo, both from Mora but now deceased. My parents and I met up with my other aunts and uncles (all born in Mora) and stayed at the Mora Valley Inn. We visited Alfredo, Novella, orlando and his wife and Mary Lou, his ex. We had a wonderful time. Alfredo was very spry and had that twinkle in his eyes, as he always did, especially when it came time for hugs and kisses. I have fond memories of taking my grandma Eloisa to visit him at his Xmas tree lots in CA and taking him homemade empanadas. He always gave her a flocked tree...I was glad we were able to see him; altho he was ill he still drove himself to Albu to sell pumpkins at the farmers market! What a guy! My condolences to all...
nice tribute.
What a lovely remembrance of Uncle Alfred! It was great seeing you and I so enjoyed taking a road trip to NM with your Mom and Uncle Mike to honor the life and memory of this special man.
Not a Christmas goes by that we don’t think about uncle Freddie. We waited every December for him to roll into town. He was the first to teach us about free enterprise. Before you knew it he put you to work as a salesman. It didn’t matter if you were ten years old, as long as you could count money. I don’t think child labor laws were strictly enforced in Mora. He sure will be missed.
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