A Love Story

Today I went to lunch with Ms. Eva, an elderly woman who lives 3 houses down from me. She is a wonderful lady, but boy, does she sustain a conversation! And so, after avoiding a dinner for months, I went with her to Los Barrios, a wonderful Mexican restaurant alive with color and mariachi. Over tortilla soup and homemade tortillas, I asked about her husband and she proceeded to tell me about love, the love of her life who was NOT her husband. She told me of elaborate parties, ribbons of color flown on banners and margaritas in Mexico City, where Enrique loved her and she him. His charm and adoration was alluring and Eva claimed to be "in love, deep through to the core of her body." The problem was that her family was leaving Mexico for the United States after 5 years of working for visas. So, she was to leave with them. Enrique wasn't able to come. She told me that at 29, she knew it meant she would never see him again. She recalled his smile and his eye lashes, also that he sent special deliveries for months after she had gone. But, she was never to go back. I asked why her mom and dad made her go with them, why didnt she stay behind. Eva quietly said, "I was the only child. My mom lost every pregnancy besides me. I had to go with them; they couldn't lose me." It was odd to think of a 29 year old woman as a child and that her love for Enrique wasnt to usurp that of her mom and dad. She continued, "They lavished everything on me, everything I wanted, everything they gave to me. I owed them." So, she left. I again asked about the man she did marry. She began, "Well, mija, I loved Enrique and nce you have that kind of love, you dont ever forget it. It is too deep, too much. "You know," she went on, "I did see Enrique again, about 5 years after. He came to the US and had a wife and child. We met for coffee because he had a beautiful photograph of me when I was Miss Mexico. He wanted me to have it. When I met him he wanted me to eat with him, to talk. I said no. He told me he couldnt part with the picture, that he didnt bring it." Eva recalled that she stood up and was frustrated. She madly stated that it was mean not to bring the picture. She then told me the last words he ever said to her. "It is the most horrible thing to not be married to the love of your life, and it is worse to upset her at perhaps the last time she is to see him."

Can you imagine? The Hispanic Titanic. Wow.