The gift of time… my grandfather…
An essay…
Every year when Christmas is around the corner I think of each of the people who gave me something. Today, I remembered my grandfather, Bernardo. He gave me my first guitar, which I never learned to play. I did however, learn that time is possibly the most valuable gift one can give another.
Bernardo was really my great uncle. He raised my Mom, who was actually his niece. He and his wife, Amparo, or Amparito as she was known, took her in because her real mom, Carmen was actually dying of tuberculosis. My mom was a year old and grew up believing Bernardo and Amparo were her parents until she turned 15.
I grew up knowing the truth because my Mom wanted my brother and I to know. Knowing the truth only intensified our feelings for both of them. The truth is that both Bernardo and Amparo, even after their divorce, devoted their lives to the both of us. Neither of them had a lot of money to shower us with expensive gifts. They however, spent a lot of time with us. And I mean, a lot. Sometimes it could get annoying and tense due to inevitable clashes. Nonetheless my memories of them are very warm and loving.
Bernardo was an interesting character. Never finished school. He was in fact kicked out of second grade to give his seat to another kid who was from money. At 12, he left his home in the country to go to the city and work. Slept around in houses’ porches and tried to get a job. Hard to find one at 12, but he persisted. He found his ways though. At 15, his dad came to get him and he stayed with him for five years. At 20, he came back to the city and eventually became the chauffeur of a government official.
The concept of a Renaissance Man was not something he used to refer to himself but he certainly was one. He sold men’s clothing from the trunk of his car, worked as a x-ray technician, picked up kids at school in his Volkswagen wagon and took them home, sold lottery tickets, and made lots of connections that later served him to become a radio show producer. He hustled. One of the perks was that I was able to go to the local movie theater some times for free because he drove the owners’ kids home from school.
He ventured in the radio show business producing three or four radio shows. One of them needed a name and in a whim he asked me. I said “Panorama Musical”. Which translated means Musical Panorama or Horizon. The judge choosing names liked the name I provided and it was settled, that was the name. That was the show we were expected to listen to on Saturday evenings at 6:00 pm. He’d send us a greeting at each show. We had to tell him what it was said as a proof that we were listening.
However; more interesting than that were his contracts and invoices. His handwriting was terrible on account of having been kicked out of school. Either my Mom or I had to fill these out for him and sign them. Sometimes there were a lot to sign. And I felt very important signing them with my grandfather’s name. Sadly, I do not have a copy of one with my handwriting. I have one with my Mom’s handwriting. See below both the signed invoice and the contract. The address on them is where we used to live. He lived in an apartment in our backyard.
After divorcing my grandma, Amparo, he never remarried. He would come and go. I met a girlfriend who was a very nice woman but it did not go anywhere. That only gave him more time to hang out with me. He was a prankster; much to my embarrassment at times.
Picture of my grandma, Amparo Rosado del Rosario below.
When I turned 15, he decided to send a photo of me to the newspaper. Keep in mind that Puerto Rico is a small island and we had only two or three local papers that everyone bought. The announcement said that the was sending me to Spain for my birthday with my mother. It was a lie and I had to answer questions at school all day much to my grandfather’s enjoyment. Can you imagine how upset I was when he picked me up?
Pranks, jokes, and tall tales were his bread and butter. Which made him a great story teller and great company. Some of these stories were about having made an acquaintance with the Mexican actress, María Félix through his friend Lydia Mazano. I am not sure if this is the correct name. But below is a very old photo from my grandfather’s things where you can see María Félix in the middle. Other stories were about his childhood and others about his victories in the government, like when he refused to wear a seat belt and got a letter from a judge letting him off from wearing a seat belt.
As I grew up, we would spend a lot of hours either playing cards, walking in the mall, crafting pranks, and sometimes watching a show together. His ability to trick people into believing him no matter what he said was unparalleled. One summer afternoon when coming back to my apartment and taking the elevator, he decided to trick a neighbor about the impending hurricane that was coming. He went on and on shelling out details much to this neighbor’s dread. As the neighbor’s nervousness increased, the more elaborate the story became. As we reach his floor, he runs out frantically explaining how he needs to shop for supplies. I stopped the elevator’s door, peaked out, and told him: “my grandfather loves pranking people and today he forgot his valium (my prank to my grandpa). There is no hurricane coming.” The neighbor was both relieved and perplexed and said, “no hurricane?” I said, “no. He is old and moody, don’t mind him.” You’d think my grandfather would be annoyed at me playing him the card but no. When I looked back at him, his laughter was rascally delightful and sneaky. Almost as if he meant “I taught her well.”
A quote from Bertrand Russell says “Time you enjoy wasting, was not wasted.” When it comes to time spent with my grandpa, it was never wasted.
Love,
Alma