La Madre de nuestro amigo

We got the news today that our friend's mother had died. She was to be 72 years old on the 24th of this month. The news was made harder on Gus because living so far away has made their visits few and far between in the ten years that he's been living in Oklahoma. He and his sisters family will be flying back to Guadalajara tomorrow morning.

I met her the first time about eight years ago when I dropped by Gus' apartment and discovered that his family was there to visit. They invited me to stay for lunch, which I did, even though I had my dog in the car. His 14-year-old neice wound up being the interpreter for the visit because his mom and cousin spoke no English at all, and the only Spanish I knew at the time was "los elefantes son grande." When we next met at Christmas time, Gus' mom was still calling me 'the elephant boy.'

The next time we saw each other was this past Christmas, and she was pleased that my Spanish had improved. She was a really sweet lady.