I have something in common with my abuelito
and it's not a favorite food
***This post was originally published on 05/2022 as part of my previous blog. I'm sharing it here as I restart my journey, to give you insight into where it all began. I’ll be sharing a new post from my archives every other week as I bring this blog back to life.***
family ties and first impressions
My dad’s stepfather—aka my abuelito Güero (not his real name, just a classic Mexican nickname: abuelito = grandfather, Güero = slang for someone light-skinned or blonde)—lives in LA. Mexican nicknames can be strange, but that’s a whole other post.
I like to stop by and say hi if I'm ever in LA.
It wasn’t until recently—probably in the last few years, but definitely before COVID—that I finally met one of my uncles (my dad’s brother). Ever since I can remember, his name would come up in conversation, usually followed by some version of “he’s back in jail.” He had been in and out of the system his whole life.
To be honest, I never thought much about it. I hadn’t met him, so to me, he was just another story floating around the family.
So where did I finally meet him?
At a funeral.
funerals: where everyone shows up
It’s funny how death brings people together.
Luckily for him, he was out of jail for that funeral and was able to be there with his family. That’s not always the case for people who’ve been incarcerated. He probably missed a lot of other goodbyes while serving time, so in a way, this was a rare moment of connection.
He looked just like my abuelito—like a younger version of him. I remember the small talk being polite but brief. Even though he’s family, he was a stranger to me. And since it was a funeral, emotions were already running high.
Time passed, and on another visit to my abuelito, I got an update—my uncle was back in prison. His freedom was short-lived.
we have something in common
During that same conversation, I gave my abuelito an update on my son. At the time, he was out—a free man after his first stint in prison. I shared what I knew, all while secretly feeling like I knew how it might play out.
That’s when my abuelito said:
“Mija, tú y yo tenemos algo en común.”
(“You and I have something in common.”)
And just like that, it hit me.
We really did.
He’s the father of someone who can’t seem to get it together. Just like me. I hadn’t made that connection until he said it out loud. Sometimes it takes someone else to point out the obvious.
That conversation stuck with me. It hit differently because it came from someone who’s been there.
the story continues
Since then, my uncle has been released again and is trying to figure out his life—in his 60s. I’m hoping he finally gets it together and stops causing my abuelito so much stress. But who knows? Only time will tell.
As for my son—he’s back in prison, figuring out this stage of his life too.
It is what it is.
And life goes on.