Ramone passed away yesterday. We will miss him terribly. I sure wish we would have had just a couple more years with him or even one more summer.
I loved looking outside to see Ramone working in the yard or talking to his ‘kids’ which is what he called his cows. “Here kids!” he’d call when he had a treat for them. Last summer he saved some pears in several five gallon buckets and would yell, “Bucket Kids, BUCKET!” and those darn cows would come running across the field to get a pear from him.
Many days I would look over to see him sitting on his milk crates waiting for the water tanks to be filled, that’s when I had the best conversations with him. He told me about the families that had lived in my house and about the land around our homes and the railroad that used to run through his property. He told me about serving in the war and sailing with the Navy. He told me how he was the first Mexican American to graduate from the local high school. Ramone told great stories.
Ramone had a habit of leaving things in a certain place that seemed befitting. Those two tractors, empty, still, but in that one spot together they were just right. Now those milk crates will sit there empty and still, but in just the right spot to remind me of sweet Ramone.
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