Thursday, July 30, 2009

Marital Status


It wasn’t a big deal to my grandfather, so what if the secretary had ticked the wrong box on his paper work? It could happen to anyone, the boxes were after all grouped really close together and the office had been really busy. A little dab of “White-Out" and all would be fine. It was a done deal anyway. Grandpa had already decided to give them his business.He was just there to go over the paper work and sign on the dotted line.


Maybe it was the heat and the malfunctioning air conditioner making the boss cranky, maybe his tie was chafing his neck or maybe the man was just anal retentive . Whatever the reason behind his surliness it was obvious that the boss was displeased with his employee.

“Mr. Quills…” the office manager began

“Quiles (key-lez)” my grandfather interjected.

The man looked at the form and back at my grandfather. The look on his face seemed to ask are you sure that’s how this is pronounced? Grandpa smiled at the man giving him time to absorb the proper pronunciation of his surname.

“Sorry about that Mr. Quiles”

Grandpa waved it away,"It's okay, it happens all the time." he told the manager.

“Mr. Quiles about your marital status…when we spoke you told me you were a widower.”

“I am.”

“But it says here you’re separated. Obviously someone was careless. ”

The manager’s eyes slid towards his secretary and he gave her a not so nice look. Grandpa glanced at the secretary and then back at the man. We realized then that the manager was about to use the stupid error to berate his secretary.

“ I am separated from my wife… we were separated by death.” Grandpa said and sat straighter in his chair.

The office manager wasn’t ready for that one and seemed stunned. After a couple of seconds of trying to maintain a straight face he lost the battle.

“Oh… okay separated by death!” he said just as he burst out laughing.
Grandpa looked up at the now laughing secretary and winked as her boss continued to laugh.

Labels: grandpa, smartass

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Posted by @ 10:38 AM
4 comment from:  Darla,  Anonymous,  christina/ohio,  Mia,

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

The Body of Christ

Is accepting Holy Communion under false pretenses a sin? If so my grandfather is going to have some ‘splaining to do.



Grandpa had been in the hospital for five days, five days with no solid food. He was living on jello, apple juice, tea (which he hates), and clear chicken broth. He was hungry, cranky and didn’t give a flying fig who knew about it so when the Catholic priest entered his room and asked if he wanted to receive Holy Communion a light went off in my grandfather’s head. Never mind that the last time he’d been in church was over 50 years ago.

There was no love lost between him and the Catholic Church. The church had made it very clear what it had thought about his illegitimate status when he was a child. He’d only made his first communion at the age of 14 in this country because his mother begged him to and the priests here didn’t care about the circumstances surrounding his birth, they only cared about his soul. He never set foot in a church again after that day but this Sunday the church had come to him and grandpa was determined to take advantage of it.

He watched as the priest approached him with the communion wafer in hand and instantly remembered what he was supposed to say. My mother shook her head slightly not quite believing what her father was about to do.

“This is the body of Christ” said the priest as he placed in my grandfather’s mouth.
“Amen”, my grandfather replied.

The priest kneeled down and began to pray not taking notice that my grandfather was furiously chewing the communion wafer. Mom opened her eyes wide and arched an eyebrow at her father. He continued chewing and smirked at her when she covered her eyes with her hand.

When the priest left the room my grandfather smiled, “Ahh that was good!” he exclaimed.

“Daddy you’re not supposed to receive the Eucharist unless you’ve made your first communion.”

“Maggie, my mother was a Spaniard; of course I made my communion! I gave in to my mother when I was a teenager. She was afraid I’d get killed out here she wanted to make sure I’d get into heaven if that happened.”

“So then you know you’re not supposed to chew it daddy!”

“Maggie that was the first piece of solid food I’ve had in five days. The priest was lucky I didn’t ask him to smear some butter on it.”

Labels: grandpa, religion

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Posted by @ 1:27 PM
6 comment from:  christina/ohio,  Mia,  Goggles Piasano Ritardo,  Mia,  Goggles Piasano Ritardo,  Mia,

Friday, November 14, 2008

Her Guide

He taught her how to build and fly kites, how to throw a football, dunk a shot, and how to sew. He taught her carpentry by building her a doll house as tall as a five year old and filled it with handmade dolls and furniture they’d made together. He helped her build her own soap box derby car and cheered her on every weekend as she raced against the neighborhood kids past the Park Slope Armory on 8th ave and 14 th street.


With great difficulty he learned how to plait her thick waist length curls although they were never quite up to snuff. He learned how to properly host dress up tea parties for her and her friends. He instinctively knew when she needed to rough house and when she needed to just cuddle in his lap and cry because her mommy had missed yet another scheduled visit.

When the time came he taught her about the joys of Midol and hot water bottles. He took her training bra shopping blushing the entire time as he stood in the background as the Macy's clerk helped her pick out she needed. When the first pimple reared its ugly head on her face he taught her how to take care of her skin. He taught her about the birds and the bees, and the rules of dating. He taught to value herself and never allow a man to disrespect her in body nor spirit. He taught her how to walk in heels (don’t ask), how to sit like a lady, and that when she wore slacks her socks had to match her blouse. He taught her how to shave her legs, paint her nails, and even though he didn’t approve taught her the proper way to apply make- up so she didn’t look like Alice Cooper.


I walked in yesterday and my mother was on the phone her lips were pressed together making her dimples and the slight cleft in her chin more prominent, her eyes were closed, her nose was scrunched up and she was pinching the bridge of her nose. She was struggling not to laugh.When she hung up the phone she laughed until she was gasping for breath wiping tears from her eyes.

“Oh man these awkward conversations with my dad never end.” She said

“What happened ma?”

“Your grandfather read an article on menopause and pre-menopausal women and realized that I’m at the pre-menopausal stage so he called me up and was explaining the change of life to me and telling me what I need to do now to make sure I went through it smoothly.”

“What?”

“You heard me Mia, my father just spent 45 minutes from his hospital bed getting me ready for menopause.” She said placing her hand over her heart. “ and still he wonders why I send him a mother’s day card every year. I love that man.”

I imagine that being given the task of raising an infant alone at the age of 18 must have been hard for him. I imagine that it wasn't easy for him having to guide his little girl through the female rites of passage on his own. I imagine that despite the passage of time relinquishing his role as her guide through the important milestones must be hard. I think it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

Labels: grandpa

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Posted by @ 11:39 PM
3 comment from:  2 Second Club ®,  Anonymous,  Anonymous,

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Twenty-Three Years

My grandfather was staring at my mother. He’d been giving her ‘the look’ which she was trying to ignore ever since she’d returned from the cemetery. “I don’t know why you go there.”Mom sighed before replying, “Someone has to go and stomp on the ground and make sure she doesn’t dig herself out.” Her twisted sense of humor has always been her defense mechanism. My grandfather was not amused; he rolled his eyes at her. “Her anniversary is not for a few more days” “I know daddy but I figured if it rained I wouldn’t be able to go and I wanted her flowers to be there on her anniversary.”


Twenty three years ago today at 11:15 pm my then 22 year old mom had her world shattered when the phone rang and she was told her 37 year old mother had just died.It wasn't only her world that was destroyed, my grandfather was rocked to his foundation. He’d always been a paragon of strength throughout his life but when faced with the loss of the woman who’d been the love of his life he couldn’t cope. Despite the fact that they gone their separate ways while my mother was a child they never divorced each other. Despite their many differences over the years the one constant thing about them was their love for their children, and their love and lust for each other that never seemed to die. They just couldn’t live together. The past was always an insurmountable barrier or so my mother had always thought.


“We were getting back together, did you know that?”, My grandfather asked my mother as she placed a cup of coffee in front of him. My mother was shocked by her father’s revelation. She knew her parents had been talking to each other on the phone everyday ever since she’d given birth to me. She knew that occasionally grandpa took grandma out to lunch. She’d even blushed a time or two when she’d seen the way her parents had looked at each other when they thought no one was looking. Her and her brother joked about it all the time. Still the news that they’d planned on getting back together had stunned her. “We had it all planned. That’s why I brought the house. We figured you and your brother would give us lots of grandchildren. The house was always going to be filled with them. We were going to grow old together just like we’d planned on doing when we were kids. We were going to surprise you guys with it on Christmas."

My mom smiled at her father. Something in her brain clicked. “So that’s what this is all about…you’re angry at her for leaving you again. That’s why you’ve never gone to her grave in all these years?” My grandfather sat silently staring into his cup of coffee. “Ah yeah that’s what it is.” My mom said. She excused herself and several minutes later came out of her room carrying several ancient looking black and white composition notebooks. She placed them in front of her father. His eyes opened wide when he flipped one of the books open. He looked at the page and placed his open palm on it. “This is your mother’s handwriting.” Mom nodded her head. “I think you should have them. Do me a favor; wait until you get home to read them. ” My grandfather shrugged his shoulders and flashed his dimples. I’d always wondered why my grandfather never remarried. He’s never been at a loss for women chasing after him. In that moment as he stared at his wife’s handwriting I finally understood why. He was still in love with her.


She’d given him her mother’s journals. I was familiar with the contents. They were love letters, poems, and musings about her life, and about him. I’d read them a few times they were a testament of her undying love for him the last entry had been written the day before she died. He’d known about the journals but had never expressed interest in seeing them so mom kept them locked away. Her father’s revelation made her realize he needed to see them.



This morning on her mother’s twenty third anniversary my mother went to the cemetery accompanied by her brothers. My grandmother’s grave is always well attended. Each and every time I’ve gone by I’ve found flowers on her grave from one of her many nieces, nephews, siblings, friends, and children. Her grave never lacks a floral arrangement especially on milestone days like her anniversary or birthday so it was no big surprise to find flowers on the grave. Except that today it looked as if a flower shop had exploded red carnations grandma’s favorite flower, all over her grave. There were no less than a dozen bouquets of red carnations placed around her grave. My uncles stepped up and read the cards aloud to my mother. They were from her father. Each and every bouquet held a sentiment expressing his still undying love for her and his sorrow at losing her. Several of my uncles openly wept.Until that moment they'd never realized the depth of his emotions for their mother.

My mother asked her brother for his cell phone and called her father, “Daddy I’m at the cemetery. Thank you.” “ Those were her favorite flowers, her bridal bouquet was red and white carnations. No matter how much your grandmother tried to convince her to go with another flower my woman wasn’t having it. She was so stubborn just like you.” “Abuela used to tell me that all the time when I was a kid.” She replied. “ Did you know I was ten years old when I first met your mother? I couldn’t stop staring at her when I first saw her in the playground. I’d never seen hair that red before or dimples like hers. I was a goner." He began laughing as he recalled the time she had dyed her hair black to match his just to piss him off after he'd called her "red" one time too many for her liking.(see photo above) "God she was something else. Maggie, she had the most beautiful eyes. The same color as Mia’s. She was the first girl I ever kissed.”

My mother laughed as he continued. It had been twenty three years since he'd spoken about her with laughter in his voice.

Labels: grandpa, Love

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Posted by @ 5:59 PM
2 comment from:  Anonymous,  Mia,

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Is It Because I Look Mexican?

My grandfather & me.

My mom’s father grandpa Raymond had taken his dog “Ralph” out for a walk with my brother Steven when he was stopped by the police. The young officer stepped out his patrol car and swaggered over to where my grandfather was standing.


--Excuse me sir?

-Yes officer how can I help you?

--Do you speak English?

My grandfather tightened his grip on Ralph’s leash and took a step towards the cop.

-Didn’t I just answer you in English?

--Sir I need to see your ID.

-Why?

The officer arched his eyebrows at my grandfather and looked towards his partner who had just stepped out of the patrol car and was walking over towards them. My brother put his body protectively in front of grandpa not fully trusting the officer with our grandfather. Grandpa placed his hand on Steven’s shoulder and told him to step back. Given our police departments history with minorities lately he didn’t trust the officer around my brother either.

--Sir your ID please. I need to see it.

-Why? Is it because I look Mexican? I’m not an illegal Mexican I’m Puerto Rican. I’m a legal citizen.

Steven chuckled.

---Abuelo (grandfather) you don’t look Mexican!

--Yeah to you but you know how it is with white cops all big headed Hispanics look Mexican to them. Thank god you didn’t inherit my melon otherwise you’d been deported at birth.

The cop smiled he obviously found grandpa amusing but he had a job to do so the smile was short lived.

--No sir it’s not because you look Mexican. It’s because of your dog.

Grandpa looked at my brother as he pulled out his wallet and handed the officer his ID as well as Ralph’s license.

-See Stevie, he isn’t denying I look Mexican.

The officer checked the ID and looked at my grandfather.

--What’s this about officer?

--Your dog sir, it took a dump over there and I’m going to have to give you a ticket.

Grandpa looked at the officer and then looked at the spot where the officer claimed Ralph had done his business.

-Officer my dog hasn’t done his deed yet.

--Mr. Quills I was watching your dog for awhile. I witnessed your dog squatting over there just now. He took a dump.

-It’s Quiles (key-less) not quills and my dog just took a leak not a dump.

Grandpa waved the empty poo bag several feet away from the cop’s face.

-If he had done his business I’d have put it in this bag. That’s why I have it; I clean up after my dog.

--I saw your dog squat sir.

-Look officer I don’t like to advertise this because my dog has a reputation to protect with the other dogs in the neighborhood and you know how judgmental those pit bulls can be, especially about St. Bernards. My dog squats when he pees, he’s gay. He thinks he’s a girl.

The cop’s partner chuckled he was obviously enjoying himself.

-Officer the poo in question is so old and dehydrated it’s practically dust. You’ve been watching me since I got here true?

The officer nodded his head.

-Well then you must realize that if my dog had taken that poo the poo should be fresh and moist. Why don’t we go take a look at the poo?

My brother laughed wondering how many more times grandpa could work the word poo into a conversation without cracking up.

--Sir we don’t have time for this.

-Sure you do. I’m retired and you get paid by the hour. Let’s go take a look.

Reluctantly the cops walked over to the poo with my grandfather.

-See it’s all dried up and look at the size of it come on that’s like Chihuahua poo. Look at the size of my dog he’s over 100 lbs. The beast craps like a horse. My dog didn’t do that.

The other officer took a look at the poo and shook his head.

---Chris I hate to admit it but he’s right. No way that came from his dog. It’s been there for awhile.

--Fine Mr.Quiles you win. I’ll let you off this time but next time clean it up.

-Let me off? My dog didn’t do it so how are you letting me off?

--Next time clean it Mr. Quiles.

Grandpa waved his bag in the air again.

- Look officer I'm not carrying this bag around in hopes of catching a last minute sale. I carry this for a reason and if my dog had done it I would’ve cleaned it without having to be told.

As my grandfather and brother walked away the other officer called out to him….

---Hey Mr. Quiles before you retired were you a lawyer?

-No worse than that I was a single father who raised a couple of smart ass kids.

Labels: family, grandpa, smartass

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Posted by @ 9:02 AM
6 comment from:  christina/ohio,  Anonymous,  Mia,  DannieS72,  Anonymous,  Mia,

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

My Grandpa the smart ass...

I come from a long line of smart asses it runs on my mother’s side odds are pretty good that any child I have will also be a smart ass. It can’t be helped it is part of our DNA. To prove my point I present one of my favorite stories involving my maternal grandfather Raymond…

It was a really cold evening and my grandfather was out walking his dog Ralph.He had just turned the corner onto his block when he saw this huge pit bull taking a dump on the snow covered side walk. Once he was done the pit bull and his owner went along their way. Just as Ralph approached the steaming pile the building’s superintendent stuck his head out the window and called out to my grandfather. He pointed to the pile of dog mess in front of his building's entrance. “Hey Raymond did your dog just take that shit?” My grandfather looked up at him and held his pooper scooper in the air , “No, it was the dog that just turned the corner, some guy with a pit bull.”

The super looked around and since he didn’t see the pitbull grandpa was talking about decided that my grandfather was lying. “Raymond if your dog did that I’d appreciate you cleaning it up because then I’m stuck cleaning up dog shit and I don’t even own a dog.” Grandpa looked up at him and told him, “Look man I’ve got my pooper scooper right here. I’m waiting on this damn dog to do his thing so I can clean it up and go home.” Once again the super looked at my grandpa and told him, “I’m just saying clean it up. It’s not fair to me to have to clean it.”

My grandfather was now starting to get ticked off,"I don’t blame you for not wanting to clean it but I’m not going to clean up a mess my dog didn’t do." The super’s tone had now changed to down right nasty “Are you sure you’re dog didn’t do that? Because that pile of shit looks fresh, It’s still steaming.” Implying that if the pile had been there for awhile there would have been no steam rising off of it and therefore Ralph must have just done it.

Grandpa then went into smart ass mode, “and what does that mean? I’ve been out here walking for almost an hour” and with that he opened his mouth and blew out a gust of air made visible by the artic chill of the evening, “and look I’ve got steam coming out of me!” The super was at a loss for words. My grandfather and his dog continued their walk with no more talk from the super.

Labels: dog, grandpa, smartass

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Posted by @ 3:23 PM
3 comment from:  DannieS72,  Goggles Piasano Ritardo,  christina/ohio,