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Ride Your Ride Your Ride

my bike Tuco, named after the Ugly One in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

Lifes little surprises never cease to amaze me. I'm not exactly sure how to tell this story but I will try. A few weeks ago my Mom says she was digging around in an old dresser and found this little funny package. The package was flat and made from beer boxes, cut and taped together and a little over 12" x 12" big. On it was my Dads handwriting stating what was inside. RECORDS! And not just any records but records I had wondered what had happened to because I knew my Dad really liked them....FATS DOMINO! He had taken care and written the names of the records for safe keeping. Now they are mine to cherish. 
It was like a little gift from the other side...which sometimes doesn't feel very far away. In fact most days it feels like my Dad is still right here with me. With Fathers Day happening this weekend he has been on my mind more than usual. 
So yesterday I was a little surprised to get a strange friend request and message on facebook. It was from someone in Guanajuato and they asked mysteriously if I knew who they were. I opened my Google Translator and the conversation went underway. Turns out this person was the daughter of the woman my Dad had been living with in Mexico. His girlfriends daughter. My Dad split his time between Dallas and Mexico every month. He would take long bus trips to get there and stay a week or two and come back. He loved Mexico, his heart and most of his family were there.  When he passed away he was THERE  and with people we had never met only heard about. So I was pleased to be able to ask how my Dads life was spent there and learn that he had happy times...with people that loved and missed him very much. I think about the great divide between Texas and Mexico and people missing my Papi here and there. He made friends everywhere he went. He was such a jovial soul, liked to make merry and be social. The girl told me that my Dad told her I was a great artist and had brought my cd to Mexico to give her. That means the world to me that my Dad was proud of me. He wasn't one to speak about his emotions too much (sometimes if he was drinking beer he would ) :)  so I really treasure that he found worth in my endeavors in the art and music. That was my little gift from my Dad just in time for Fathers Day, a little pat on the head and "I'm proud of you mija". I was pretty emotional and turned on the TV, flipped it to the Mexican channel and lulled myself to sleep with his native language and the sound of the dryer going on in the background. It almost felt like I was 11 years old again at home in the safe domestic noise of family. The things you take for granted as a kid.
Happy weekend, enjoy the day and everyone in it!
(my bike has nothing to do with this post except it being a bad ass and a part of my family)
   

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