No Puede Ayudar

Dearest Rachel –

You never know what’s going to happen some days. It’s been a fairly straightforward one for the most part, and then I make to head out for the usual Tuesday evening walk. What with her being up in Door County with her parents last week, I’ve missed being able to chat with Erin. Although to be sure, the weather looks threatening this evening, so we may not have all that much time.

Today is probably been the hottest day of the year so far. Well into the 90s, humid to the point of ridiculousness; it’s the kind of day you’d wanna seal up in a cedar box, and ship off to Finland. They appreciate a good sauna there; we could make bank if we could export this to them.

Although, as long as I’m talking about Scandinavia, little Greta Thunberg can take a seat – she can take all the seats for that matter. This may be uncomfortable, but compared to 1995, when we had, oh, how many days of triple digit heat? Yeah, no comparison.

It’s weird, though. As much as days like this get you to appreciate air-conditioning, you do realize how it can be over done. Heck, do you remember our honeymoon at Disney World? All that going back-and-forth between air-conditioned indoors, and sweltering outdoors? Both of us came down with colds from all that. Or something similar – I think I remember us being okay by the end of the week, but we were both laid out as of that Thursday.

Well, it’s all part of that learning what each other is like. Got to start by saying how each other bears up with a bad cold, so you know what you’re getting into.

Anyway, as I was heading out the door to drive off to Melas Park, I realized there was a family standing around on our yard. Once I got outside, I discovered that their truck seem to have broken down.

Now, I’m no mechanic. I’d love to be able to help them, but I don’t know the first thing about what to do. Worse yet, only the little boy was able to speak English; he was doing all the translating for his mother as I tried to ascertain what was wrong.

From what I could tell, he seem to indicate that his dad was coming to help them out, from my house a few doors down. I will admit that his little sister might’ve been the one I spoke to about a pet crow the other day. On second glance, probably not, as she seems younger than that girl, and ironically, a little more Anglo. Not sure how that works.

(By the way, I’m not including pictures, partly because it didn’t occur to me until I was driving off, and partly because that kind of goes against certain rules about taking pictures of minors without permission. So you won’t be able to judge for yourself if it’s the same girl or not.)

I tried asking what was wrong with the car, but between the language barrier and the fact that when you can’t expect a five-year-old boy to know anymore about all the maintenance than I do, there wasn’t much I could determine. Finally, I simply addressed the mom:

“Perdoname; no puede ayudar.” Forgive me, I can’t help you. I’m pretty sure I conjugated that wrong, too.

I felt bad, getting in my car and just driving off. I suppose somebody might consider themselves virtuous just by not shooing them off their lawn, but that’s just basic humanity. I wanted to do something for them, but I didn’t understand what was wrong, and my skills with cars are virtually nonexistent. I probably even couldn’t use my AAA card to get a tow truck or anything for them, because the car wasn’t mine.

All I could do was mentally wish them luck, and I hope that his dad finally showed up to help them out. For what it’s worth, they were gone by the time I got back – and a good thing too, because there were a lot of other things to worry about by then.

Anyway, I’ll be keeping in touch with you. Take care, honey. I love you.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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