Family makes world a safe, wonderful place

One of my greatest joys as a kid was to wait for my big brother, Rey, to come home late after a night out doing what teenagers did in those days without cars.

I would stay awake in my makeshift room in the attic just waiting to hear my brother open the kitchen door; and when he arrived, I would leap out of bed and skip steps coming down to meet him. He greeted me with a smile saying, "Let's get something to eat," which meant we would race to the fridge, break out the cold refried beans, spread them on celery stalks and just sit there relishing the moment together. I can't remember what we talked about, but to this day, when I think of him, I get that "it's a safe, wonderful world," feeling because I have a big brother.

I idolized my big brother. He was my hero, my protector and my rock. Growing up, I always wanted to be like him. He was tough, athletic and a natural leader. Everyone liked hanging out with him. He was talented and played several instruments — the guitar, mandolin and clarinet. As a teenager, he would sit in the kitchen with my older sister, Becky, and my mother singing Mexican songs. I, of course, knew my limits and just took in the warm feeling being generated in the old house with calcimine walls.

As a little kid, I liked to hang around my brother, who really didn't like my doing so. He would rather be playing with his friends than having a bratty kid brother tag along. When I complained to mother that Rey wouldn't take me, she would scold him and make him take me with him. All along the way, he would be cussing me out with a frequent swat on the head. I didn't mind because it was the price of hanging out with the big guys.

One of the saddest days was to see my brother leave to join the Navy. It was toward the end of WWII, and he was proud to serve. Every day I would check the mail to see if my brother had written. One day, I received a package in the mail from him. It was a silver watch with numbers that glowed in the dark. Every night I would take the watch under the bed covers so I could see the numbers and think of my big brother. It was a great day when he came home.

He taught me how to play basketball in the front room with a tennis ball, using the old-type curtain rods as the hoop. Needless to say, Mom expressed her displeasure but conveyed in a way that she enjoyed seeing us play together.