Vivaporu: Grandpa was right!

Dear Chicken Nugget,

I am sick right now - just one of those Fall/Winter colds that doesn't seem to go away. 

A few days ago, as I opened my medicine cabinet for some sort of relief I saw an old bottle of Vicks Vapor Rub.

I remembered the greasiness and the smell from my sickly days as a child when my mom would rub Vivaporu (that's what latinos call it) all over my chest and sometimes even wipe some on my nose.  It's powerful stuff and clears up your airways pretty quickly and I remember the smell lingering on my skin and clothes for days.

So, with that memory, I took some Vivaporu out of the little jar and rubbed it all over my chest.  Immediately, I felt better!  Of course, four days later I'm still dealing with this cold so Vivaporu does not necessarily "cure" you but it does make you feel better.  I guarantee it.

It also makes me smell like my grandpa, your great grandpa, Bolivar Santiago.  My grandpa was a firm believer that Vivaporu could cure absolutely anything.  Cough? Vivaporu!  Stuffy nose?  Vivaporu!  Sore muscles?  Vivaporu!  Arthritis?  Vivaporu!  Bad cut or open wound? Vivaporu!  Toe fungus? Belly ache?  Headache? Hemorrhoids?  Oh yes, Vivaporu!

I remember my grandpa having little bottle of Vivaporu on his nightstand, in his chest of drawers, and sometimes, in a plastic bag that he used to carry all his important papers. 

I have to admit, I do feel better rubbing on the Vivaporu, even if it hasn't cured me.  I'll make sure that when you're old enough, you'll get to experience the magic of Vick's Vapor Rub.  And maybe some day, when we both have a cold, we'll both walk around with greasy, mentholy chests and smelling like Great Grandpa.

Eternally yours,

Tu papa

on donating blood

Dear Chicken Nugget,

Today I went to the NY Blood Center to donate blood.  It's something I started doing about three years ago, two to four times a year, to help out our local blood banks.  In a city of about 8 million people, something like 60% are eligible to donate blood but only less than 5% actually do so.  That means that in a city of 8 million people full of illness, accidents, and surgeries, there's almost always a shortage of blood.

I tell you this because I feel it's our duty as healthy adults to do what we can to help others in need.  I hope that, when you get older and meet the eligibility requirements for donors, you help people by giving some blood.

I have seen family members who were sick and needed blood transfusions.  I saw them get blood and watched them feel better, if even for just a little bit.  When you give blood you may be helping a cancer patient who needs a blood transfusion to help them feel better.  You may be helping someone in a traumatic car accident who needs an emergency transfusion.  You may be helping babies that were born prematurely and need transfusions to help them gain strength.

Or, you may be helping someone like your great grandfather Bolivar, who at the age of 98 was very ill, fatigued, and confused.  The doctors told us that they were going to give him some blood to help a low red blood cell count.  The way my mom describes it, it's as if they gave him the blood of a young bull.  Within minutes he was up, trying to walk out of bed, telling jokes, and asking for food; he was hungry.

Although, the blood transfusion didn't "cure" my grandpa, it helped him feel better.  And, it gave my family a few more waking, lucid moments with grandpa.

God-willing you will grow up to be a healthy young adult and will be willing to endure a couple of pinches so that you can help others in need.  My hope is that there are others who will do the same.


Loving you, always,

Tu papa

your great grandfather Bolivar

Dear Chicken Nugget,

It's been a while since I wrote a letter, but it's been a busy couple of weeks.  Don't worry, I won't neglect you the way I neglect my writing.  In fact, my writing production will decrease when you arrive because I'll want to spend as much time as I can with you.

I wanted to share with you that today would have been your great grandfather Bolivar's birthday.  Had he been alive today he would have been 96 or 98, depending on who you asked.  According to his paperwork, he was 96, but according to him he was two years older.  He always told us that they made a mistake when they registered his birth back in 1913.  Back then, chicky, they used pens and paper for all their record keeping and sometimes made mistakes.  Crazy!

Anyway, Bolivar Santiago Escudero Cascante (yes, you'll learn that our people like to use all their names) was born in Ecuador where he lived a life full of excitement and wonder.  He was an altar boy as a child, a boxer as a young man, a telegraph worker and salesman as an adult, a father of eight children, husband to your great grandmother Maria, grandfather to 17, and great grandfather to a yet incomplete number of children (as of this writing, 10.5 <- you're the .5).  He came to the United States in the early 1980s and became a citizen in 1999, one of the proudest days of his life. 

When I was little, around 4 or 5, he would tell me these grand stories of his boxing matches or of him fighting off tigers.  He would sing me tango songs of love and deception.  And, he would drink the awful "yogurt" mixes I made from random materials I could get my hands on.

But, I also remember him for what he taught me.  He taught me to always listen to my mother.  He taught me to always help a lady with carrying heavy bags.  He taught me to walk behind a lady so I could make sure she was safe from danger.  My grandfather taught me wrestling moves when I was home sick with the chickenpox.  He taught me to always try a food at least once.  He taught me to always have a snack before going to a party because you never know if they'll serve a meal.  And, more importantly, he taught me to enjoy life.  I don't think I can recall a time when my grandfather wasn't singing or playing the harmonica or telling a joke or flirting with the ladies.

He was quite a guy and I'm sorry you missed him in this life.  He passed away just last summer after a long battle with congestive heart failure.  Even in his last days he kept fighting back like a champ.  He was a great example of living every minute to the fullest.

I hope I can pass on some of his wisdom to you.

Wishing my grandpa a happy birthday up there and
Eternally yours,

Your papa