Those were the first words she spoke after coming out of the coma she had been in for the last two weeks. Her husband Ignacio Jr. stared at her with a puzzled look on his face. "How could she possibly know?" he thought. "My Father", he finally answered. He hadn't spoken to his Father in 25 years. His parents divorced when he and his little brother were just kids. His father remarried had a couple of kids and the bad blood that existed between his new wife and his first wife created a rift between Father and Sons that spanned 2 states and the last 2 1/2 decades of his Father's life. Although he tried to have a relationship with his boys, years of harbored pain eventually caused them to part ways for good.
Ignacio's Father was diagnosed with Esophageal Cancer and he and his older brother, Armando, were quickly informed. His health immediately began to decline but the combination of pride and the pain Jr. had been carrying around for so long kept him from visiting. Armando on the other hand was by his dad's side and with him at most Dr.'s visits.
Ignacio Sr. was a very quiet but loving and giving man. He knew he could never get back the years he lost with his sons and never make up for the bad decisions he made in his life that eventually broke them up but as he laid there on his death bed he made one last attempt to do do right by his son. He traded in his time so that his son would have more with his wife. He passed away and Ignacio's wife came out of the coma the next day.
Armando fought back tears and stepped away from the podium twice to regain his composure as he shared this story on the night of his dad's Rosary. His younger brother, Jr., attended the rosary and funeral the next day but did not see his father before he passed.
I remember my Grandpa Ignacio as a very quiet man. I never knew much about my uncles, his son's Armando and Ignacio Jr., or the story of his relationship (or lack there of) with them. I heard their names didn't see them much when I was growing up. Just the mention of their mom's name made my Grandma's blood boil. Not even on my worst day could I make her that upset.
The way Tio Mando told the story gave us all the chills and made sense to me. I believe it. His father made mistakes and wanted nothing more than to extend an olive branch to his son and say he was sorry.
June 15, 1921 - Sept. 28, 2006