Now that Thanksgiving is over, it's time to get Xmas letters out.
Part of that ritual entails going through the email list with the aim of eliminating names that bounce and updating names and numbers.
One of the names and numbers that is still in my list is that of the Amate. I haven't deleted even though he hasn't been amongst us for four years come January.
I wish that relationship didn't end the way it did. I will always wish that I did not have to see his body in a cheap, tacky suit in an equally tacky casket. That was probably the roughest funeral I went through. Trekking to Guatemala to see how a deported version of him would be was the preferred outcome, but things don't work out the way we want them to.
I still miss him at times. He was a great sounding board when Rick had his first stroke and was willing to be the teddy bear I needed during that time (and he HATED being cuddled.)
The craziest conversation on that subject was about baby food. They weren't sure of Rick's swallowing abilities at first and advised that I should brace myself for the prospect of having to make baby food for him.
He said, "Making baby food is easy. My sister made it all the time and I sometimes had some."
It turned out to be unnecessary, but the offer of help and advice on what makes great baby food was appreciated.
That said, after almost four years, it's probably time to delete his number and I am going to do that.
Let's see what else Holiday greetings produce.
