Remembering Papa Moxie

"Mary, do you know the number to 9-1-1?
"Yeah, Papi, it's 9-1-1."
"OK, just makin' sure you know."

"I don't know why you use so much damn toilet paper."
"I don't think I do, Dad."
"You know, back in Puerto Rico, we didn't have toilet paper."
"No way."
"Yeah. We had to use banana leaves."


"Dad, why do you hate him so much? He's a good guy."
"Because I don't like the sonofabeetch dat's why, Mary."
"You don't want me dating him? Mom told me. So, when can I date, then? No better question: when do you start dating?"
"When I was 21. No...36."


"Papi, did you enjoy the graduation ceremony? I didn't see you back in the auditorium."
"Si, yeah, Mary, it was fine.
"Mom said you left early and waited in the car.
"Well, yeah. It was too long."

"Hey Papi. How are things?"
"Good baby. Your mother tell me you're OK up there. Where are you again?"
"Michigan. I go to school in Michigan."
"Yeah, I know. So, did you bring that tool set I told you to pack?"
"Um, yeah..."

"I don't see how you tired, Mary. What do you do all day at work?"
"I write grants."
"You sit on your ass all day at a desk. That's not a real job. When are you getting a real job?"

"So, how are things?"
"Fine."
"Mom tells me you're not doing so good."
"Yeah, they're fine. I have cancer."
"Yeah."
"Those damn doctors told me I don't have too long."
"I'm sure things will be fine."
"Yeah. Well, I gotta go. There's a game on."

"Mary?"
"Yeah, Dad."
"I want a bacon sandwich."
"Dad, they don't have that here right now. It's like 7 o'clock at night. Maybe you can have it for breakfast tomorrow. Mom said she would bring you some when she visits."
"I want a bacon sandwich."
"How about something else?"
"I hate this place, how come they no have bacon sandwiches?"
"Sorry, Dad."
"Ugh. Get outta my room."

"I love you, Papi. You know that right?"
"Uh huh."
"I know we don't talk and stuff, but I just wanted to let you know that. OK?"
"Yeah. I know. Can you get me another sweatshirt?"

"Your father loved you. You know that. Of all the children, you're the only one he talks about. He always asked about you when you were in college. Even though he thought you went to school in Pennsylvania. When the doctor told him that he had cancer, your father told him that he was worried about leaving you and me behind. He cried; he would never want you to know that, but he did. He asked every day if you were coming over to the house to see him...I know he didn't talk much or respond, but he asked about you every day. He did. He was such a bastard sometimes. I miss him so much."
"Yeah, he was a jerk. I miss him, too."