REDONDO, Don Luis Durazo 1921 - 1996

By now you've run into John Gavin and Vic Damone. The other day we found, buried in my closet, one of your old flannel hooded shirts. I found a few strands of your hair in the hood. I put it on, pulled the hood over my head and looked at a picture of you, skinny as a rail, standing on Meyer Street where I was born, cradling me in your arms. I dipped my finger into your jar of $1 Blue Blue Duchess Hair Food and brought it to my nose. For just a little while you were here with me. They say you're never really gone until your name is no longer mentioned. Your name lingers on the lips of everyone who was blessed to know you. I was listening to Javier Solis the other day and I reminisced about you and my mother dancing at the Casino Ballroom. I still drink from your Golden Harvest Drinking Jar and remember how you filled it to the brim with milk. Maybe you will slip into one of my dreams soon. It's been so long since you hugged and kissed me and said "I love you Mijo". Your name will always be on my lips until we once again embrace and I hear those precious words.

Adios for now mi Jefito. Bobby