The Onion Trip

Visiting dad in Matamoros

Dad had a good friend in Burkburnett, Mr. B.; retired engineer, very smart, had a large vegetable garden; he died a few years after dad. He used to bring me shoes to mend, and after dad left, used to bring me vegetables from his garden, like he'd used to bring dad. When i told him that i would be going to visit dad, he brought me a bag full of big sweet onions, and asked me take some to dad and keep some for me.

When i got to Brownsville, i gave some to my aunt Carmen; in Matamoros i gave some to my half-brother, Arturo, and had a bunch left to give to dad.

I didn't make that trip just to take care of the business with dad's house; we did take care of it then, but it would have been done one way or another, sooner or later. So, this involves my younger sister, she graduated from Texas A&M as a biomedical engineer and worked for GE about 10 years; sometime after mom died she quit, went back to school, and became a physicians assistant--bla-bla-bla, yeah-yeah she got the brains in the family. Actually, our little, gay half-brother, H. has a doctorate in mathmatics, so they hogged all the brains in this tribe; but, i was given skills too like: nunchuck skills.... computer hacking skills.... and i can draw.

Anyway, it was fortuitous that at that time sis was working for a doctor who took care of the elderly in assisted living facilities; she did the routine check-ups for him. When dad first moved to Matamoros, she would call to see how he was doing and she would tell him about her job, taking care of people like him. So,  dad started telling her about all the different health problems he had and that he thought he might do better in one those assisted living homes that she talked about, and she wholeheartedly agreed. She talked to her boss and the people in the facilities, and figured it would take what little saving dad had left and his social security check, and there would still be some owed each month, but she said she would take care of that. That's when i said i would go talk to dad in person about the matter.

I really didn't have to ask if he was sure it was what he wanted, i saw it pretty much right away; and it was no one's fault--age was just doing it's thing, he was in bad shape. He didn't live in their small house, he had his own seperate room with a bath that had been built next to the house. When it was time for Arturo and i to leave, we planned to inform dad's other family about his wishes to move. When we stepped outside, dad's wife, the daughter, and older brother (not litttle H.) were waiting for us, and they were none too happy; i think (as they say in Mexico) they smelled something.

I do not do verbal confrontation in english, much less in spanish; i'm a clam, and so is Trish (we are both moonchildren); in the 20 years we've been married, we
have never finished a fight.

I could only stand there and watch Arturo go toe to toe with all three, but he had no problems taking them on. They were even pissed that we didn't call before showing up and claimed that they knew i was up to no good, but i never got any specifics on that. Bottom line, they would call the cops on us if we tried to take their father away from them.

Bridges were burned that day.