The Pictures We Carry

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When Salvador and I became engaged, I decided it was time that he have a photo of us in his wallet.  I didn’t carry one in my wallet, but that was because I had plenty of them on my phone.  In fact, it was one of those pictures which I printed at Walgreens and placed in a brand-new wallet I was giving him.

Salvador was very proud of both the wallet and the picture.  He would show the picture to his friends and co-workers; this despite the fact that all his friends knew me and his co-workers were also mine.  It made me the subject of quite a bit of teasing for a while.

However, one day when out with his friends and doing unintelligent things, Salvador lost his wallet.  And the picture.  And $200.

I refused to get replacements.  I did not give Salvador another photo of us until we were preparing for his move to Mexico.

When we arrived at the Mexico City airport for our first stop before heading to the consulate, we were greeted by his oldest sister, her husband, and their baby boy; they left the other three at home, bringing only the baby as he was nursing.

To this day I cannot remember their names and I have met them on multiple occasions and practiced saying their names with Salvador each time.  I’m terrible, though to make me look a bit better, I should note that Salvador generally cannot remember the names of his nieces and nephews.  Or at times his brother-in-law’s.

Anyhow, back on topic.

They had their two girls first, followed by a little boy they call Mickey (I would remember this), and finally the baby.  Knowing what I knew about how his family worshiped Salvador for being the golden boy-child, I had little faith in his sister and brother-in-law cherishing their two girls as they did their two boys.

We all sat down for dinner at Wings inside the airport and tried to communicate across my language barrier in between passing the baby around.  Right before our food came, his brother-in-law leaned over to me and asked me something I did not understand.

“He wants to show you pictures of his children,” Sal explained.

He then pulled out his wallet and flipped over to some pictures.  Inside were photos, but only of his two girls.

He said more things to me that I did not understand, pointing to each girl in turn.

Salvador translated.  “He says she, the big one, is the nicest girl ever in the world.  And the little one, she is so, so intelligent.”

It was a moment where I was rather happy to be proven wrong.

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