March 5 2010

My tío Francisco – a person I’ve never know as my “tío Francisco”, but more commonly known simply as “Pancho” – turned 70-years-old yesterday. He’s the eldest of the five De La Cruz brothers and has one of the heartiest laughs around. His laugh is the signature to his persona. The other characteristic I find notorious is his welcome shrug. It’s the type of body language that says “Ay, paisano, how you doin?”, or “Que onda, mano? Como estas?” I don’t ever think of Pancho without picturing him tilt his head slightly toward the sky, drop his eyes under his frames, shrug his shoulders, lift his hands and say “Ey…que pasa, mijo?” My reply is usually “Nada, tío.” To which, like the gloom coming in around the late Spring months in Los Angeles, it’s a certainty my uncle will reply “Nada mucho?”

The kids in our family love Pancho because he’s always there to give them a treat, lift them on his shoulders, and then chase them around. He’s also the only one in the family with a pool. Happy Birthday, Pancho.