Tio José

My mother has a half brother that lives 20 minutes from where I live in NJ. Just before heading back to Buffalo, Dad took me to his house for a quick morning visit. As we sat in Uncle José's living room and discussed the last year of everyone's life, I started asking myself, "Who is this man?"

I honestly could not remember how the man sitting before me was my relative. On the car ride home Dad carefully narrated the story of my Abuelito Simon and how my Tio José fits into the picture. Seriously, it's a story fit for a network TV mini-series.

It really feels good to know your roots. Since serving a mission in Mexico I have really begun to develop an interest in my Hispanic heritage. This is something completely new to me. Seven years ago we took a family vacation to Peru and visited a million people that were somehow related to me, but sadly I didn't really care too much. (Typical 17-year-old non-Spanish-speaking reaction.) Interestingly, when Simon and I went to Peru this Christmas I was sad that we didn't have time to visit any relatives. What a difference a few years makes.

Today, while in a corner store bathroom, I heard a radio spot promising to uncover the geneology of any family. I am so grateful to have parents and grandparents that have already done this for me.