Eulogy

Always in the back, fixing cars.
The smell of motor oil in the air,
the dirt in your nails, 
the grease in your hair. 
You could never keep a shirt white. 
Ama would come by and give you a beer.
“Gracias veja.” 
A kiss on the cheek.
The way your crystal blue eyes looked into hers. 
Mesmerizing. 

Everyday my cousins and I would play hide-and-seek. 
He saw me hide behind the bushes.
he’d let me hide underneath the car.
I’d always win. 

Seven Years Later... 
I see him. 
Half alive sitting on his chair,
taking in the dialysis. 
“Hola Apa.”
“Hola mi presiocia.”
He couldn’t say anymore than that. 
He couldn’t work on cars like he used to.
He couldn’t help me win hide-and-seek anymore.