Luis Fraile de la Fuente was one of a kind. He had a love for mischief that most of us sadly outgrow. I can picture that little smile and the twinkle in his eyes with perfect clarity. Those twinkling brown eyes with those crazy gray eyebrows above them. Though he was a stranger to me that July, I knew his eyes. He will live on through his grandson’s eyes and all of our memories.
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In 1955 Rosario Calvo, better known as Sarito, became Rosario de le Fuente Calvo. And Luis? He became the happiest man on earth. I’ve never seen a love like the love between Luis and Sarito. Even after all those years of marriage the love between them was so strong. I cannot think of words that would do justice to the love they had. In almost all pictures taken of Luis you can bet that he is looking at his wife, just as proud as the day they were married. I loved looking at the photos from their wedding day. The years had barely touched them. And yet their house was filled with a lifetime of memories. Everywhere you looked was an example of something they had shared. Whether it was pictures of their children and grandchildren or souvenirs from every country you could think of filling shelves and display cases, you could tell their life together was one that was lived to the fullest.
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I never managed to pay for anything when he was around. I desperately tried to purchase something, anything to repay him for his kindness. I was never fast enough. Once, when we were getting eis, I almost had him. My euros were up first! But the young man looked at me, then looked at him - and took his money. And of course there was my disastrous attempt and sneaking inside the restaurant that day on our trip to Rüdesheim. It would figure the one time I had a chance to pull the waitress aside she would be the one person I met who didn’t speak a word of English. I remember how everyone laughed as I slunk back outside behind her and listened to her tell everyone that I had tried to give her money and she had no idea what I was saying!
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My favorite story about Luis revolves around his ever-present love of mischief. His work for the embassy took him back and forth between Spain and Germany. The border in-between being, of course, France. This posed an interesting problem for a man who wanted to stock-up on Spanish sherry but was only allowed two bottles at a time over the border. Somewhere along the line he decided to make a bit more room in his car. Since he had that all important sticker to let you cruise through the border without any need for inspection he decided to get creative. Luis is the only man I know who would rip out the stuffing of their car’s backseat to make room to hide his booze. I can easily picture how he must have laughed each time he cleared the border with crates and crates of alcohol tucked neatly in his backseat.
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My favorite memory of him is from our trip to Rüdesheim. I still don’t have the pictures from his camera as he snapped boatloads of pictures of me and Christian but I have the ones he took on mine. I still remember trying not to laugh as I posed with Christian in front of Niederwalddenkmal. I was so impressed with it I wanted a picture of me standing with my gorgeous German with it in the background. I relayed that request to Luis through Christian. He had us check it to make sure it was okay the first time he handed the camera back. I had to laugh. We were standing in front of one of the symbols of Germany. A ten and a half meters tall monument was behind us and what did he take a picture of? Just us. When Christian had him take another it was so hard not to crack up. It was the sweetest thing. He was baffled by why we would want anything other than a close-up of us. And you know what? I think that is part of the secret to happiness. Luis knew what was really important.
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He was the first person I saw when I arrived in Germany. In a month he became more to me than people I’ve known since birth. I love him so much. I am so glad I got to meet him. His life didn’t last much longer after the summer I visited. Pneumonia came and stole a 78 year old man who had previously been as healthy and energetic as any middle-aged person I knew, perhaps more so. His death shattered the hearts of everyone who knew and loved him. Luis Fraile de la Fuente was not actually “Luis” to me. He was my Opa. I was blessed to “adopt” him through Christian. He was the grandfather I had always wished for.
I don't think this is a profile.
ReplyDeletePart of the trouble is that what you want to do here is a memoir, but memoir and profile are different. YOu want to give us some sense of the man and why you loved him--but that introduces you into the piece most definitely--everything is filtered through KH, and I don't think you can get away with much of that in a profile before it stops being or feeling like a profile.
What if you rewrote it, leaving your self out of everything but the last graf, nibbling around the edges of your stories but without you in them directly. Then the last graf comes at the reader like a sudden trumpet.
Take a look at Heather's and Sally's week 7 profiles from last semester, see if that gives you a better feel for what you need in a rewrite.
Hmm. I'm struggling with this one. I knew it wasn't going to be removed enough... but I ended up being so happy with it I left it be. blerg.
ReplyDeleteWhat I know the most about Opa is what I experienced. To know him was to love him. We also didn't have a common language. I suppose a lot of what I have to say is emotional - although he was also a remarkable man.
The man spoke fast Spanish and scattered German. I'll dig deeper on this one to pull more facts in. I'll see if my boyfriend can share more stories about him and if I have anything that could shed more light. I'll wrestle with it for a while.
It seems to me that you are struggling to turn memoir material into something you can't do with the man--a profile.
ReplyDeleteI don't think it works as memoir either, for different reasons than it doesn't work as profile--but if you wanted to work it up as adult memoir and skip profile, I'd go with that.
Let me know if you want me to critique it as memoir.
Sure, if that's okay with you.
ReplyDeleteProfile was the most difficult assignment for me.
Why do you think profile was difficult for you? Was it because you wanted to do this man and no other?
ReplyDeleteAnyway, it has a much better shot as memoir than profile. Heighten the KH material; be a little more explanatory, a little less vignettish. Lose the material you only know second-hand. Give it a rewrite.