Pipo is the kind of man that I want to be when (and if) I reach his age: a hard-working, blue-collar, kind-hearted man with a sense of humor and whose greatest joy comes from being surrounded by his family. My grandfather has always been a carpenter/handyman. He has great knowledge of the way things are put together and how to fix the same things.
My earliest memories of him are flashes from 1992, which is the year I turned five and the year my grandmother passed away at the early age of 58. I remember him building a treehouse with my brothers on an enormous tree in our backyard. I remember him spending a few days with us as we hid in my parents' closet as Hurricane Andrew tore through our treehouse, house, and the rest of South Florida. I remember that Christmas when he slept over the house and helped unwrap the gifts that Santa had brought us.
St. Francis of Assisi once said that Christians should "Preach the Gospel at all times, and when necessary use words." I believe that my grandfather summarizes that line in his life. From what I remember, I don't recall him going to church all that often, but I do know that he has a close and personal relationship with the Lord. He has led the family in prayer just about every year at Thanksgiving. I once asked Pipo how he knew how to pray God. He didn't really answer my question directly. Instead, he informed as to the reasoning behind his praying. He told me (in Spanish) "Every night when I go to sleep, I thank God for letting me live to finish another day. Every morning when I wake up, I thank God for letting me live to start another day."
Through that one declaration, I was truly introduced into what the love of God truly was. It was that God continues to bless us with gifts despite the unworthiness of all that we do. It seems to me that those who keep that in their minds - like Pipo - are the truly happy ones.
This past week, Pipo has been helping us move into our new house, which by coincidence is the same house I grew up in. Let me tell you, he worked his butt off. He definitely has lost a step or two since he has had multiple hip surgeries. But that did not stop him from sweating and toiling under the sun with the rest of us to get us all moved in. I was inspired to write this entry when I saw him - after we had finished bringing in all the heavy furniture, sitting next to my dog on the couch, ice-cold beer in hand, silently, and enjoying the simple pleasure of peace in life.
There are a few changes in the house. For instance, the treehouse is gone as the previous owner had torn the large tree down. Secondly, Pipo had started converting the garage into a bedroom for my little sister. That room is now finished and is being used as an office. However, one of the days we were there, we managed to come across a "footprint," if you will, of our previous stay at that house. Carved into one of the cement stones we use as a pathway in our backyard were my brothers' names. One stone said:
DANNY
6/25/88
The other said:
LUISI
6/25/88
When Pipo saw this, he smiled and let out a sigh before he returned to work. That memory kept him going, as do all his memories. And I'm sure at that moment, in his heart, he praised the Lord for letting him live through these moments etched in his memories.
(Below are some pictures of Pipo at my brother's wedding back in May 2008. He's the dude with the 'stache.)
