Wednesday, Oui?

Last weekend, after we went to the booksale, Aaron and I drove to Portland to see my Pepe. It was really a great time. His health is failing, so I always have this looming feeling after I see him that this time will be the last we're together.

We arrived in Portland around 12:30 to pick him up, and we departed his condo almost immediately. He wanted to show us around the city of Portland (even though I used to spend my summers with him, and he's shown me around the city a million times, I still devoured every word he said and pretended everything was new to me. Aaron, on the other hand, hadn't seen a lot of the sights, so things were new for him.) Pepe brought us all around Cape Elizabeth, Scarborough, and Portland showing us popular landmarks and even many of his accomplishments, including one of the houses he built which my mother lived in. We also visited a few beaches and Portland Head Light, one of the most famous lighthouses in the world.

Fort Gorges: Portland, Maine

A small neighbor lighthouse to Portland Head Light

 My Pepe's life's work was building. He was both an architect and engineer. He built everything from gorgeous beach houses on the coast of Maine, apartment complexes, post offices, elementary schools, the globe displayed at the 1960's World's Fair in Montreal, Canada, to L.L. Bean in Freeport, Maine. It was neat to see his local accomplishments and hear the stories of how he built them, how much supplies cost, how he won the bid against "so and so."

During this visit Pepe did seem weak but what I found interesting was his desire to plan ahead. He wanted to make plans for the summer. Throughout our entire visit (when we drove him all around the great Port City) he kept saying "This summer we'll come back and take the ferry to the island," and, "when it's not so cold can we come back and take a walk on this beach," and when we were having dinner, "I think we should have another lobster/clam 'dinnah' at camp this year" (Last year, at camp, we had a family b-b-q with all sorts of food [lobsters, clams, corn-on -the-cob, burgers, salads, desserts, etc.] and we did it all on the beach at our family's camp. It was a blast.) I can't decide if it's a good thing he's planning ahead, or if it's not a good thing. Part of me thinks he wants something to force him to carry on, the other part of me hopes he's just planning because, well, he wants to.

Lobster fest 2009 (Pepe, Mom and Xander)

Whenever we go to visit Pepe, we ALWAYS treat him to lunch/dinner. It's a respect thing. One thing my Pepe appreciates is good food. This visit we decided to splurge on him. After we'd been in the car for a few hours, driving all around the Portland area, we asked Pepe where he'd like to eat. He just shrugged and said "we could go 'up the mall?'" Having other plans in my head I said, "well, how about DiMillos? Do you want to go there?"

To know my Pepe you have to understand how modest he is. He is appreciative of everything he has. He worked very hard in his life, and he has a lot to show for it. He is very well known and respected, but he's also the sweetest man you'll ever meet...of course he wanted to go to DiMillos!!!! but he'd NEVER say that because it's pricey. When I offered up DiMillos he just showed the little half smile he's notorious for and said, "well, I could stand to eat at DiMillos. You'll have to take the next right if that's where you want to go." Just like that we took Pepe to one of the finest restaurants in Portland. He was so pleased to be eating dinner in the main cabin of a floating ship. 

My Pepe spent the better part of his young adult years serving our country on ships all across the world; he's a decorated veteran. What was great about bringing him to dinner here was at the entranace of DiMillos a seaman scuba outfit (is that what you even call it?) is on display. My Pepe served as a diver when he was in the service, going into deep waters to repair the boats when they had been damaged due to wear and tear or... torpedoes. Almost an exact replica of the diving suit he wore is on display, as well as ship's logs, and other artifacts from ship related things. He loved telling us about each item we encountered on the way to our table.

After dinner we brought him back home and dropped him off at his condo. Since he started showing more signs of being ill he has continuously asked me, every time I see him, what I would like to have of his. There are many, many things he could give me after he's gone but nothing that would ever replace what I was given by him while he was here. There was one thing, however, that I wanted... badly, and have been very vocal about getting since he first showed it to me a few years ago.

This past weekend, Pepe gave me something, the only thing (other than his love) that I've ever wanted. The below picture was drawn of him when he was 22-years-old. It was drawn in 1944. He had just stepped off his boat, which had ported in Seattle, Washington. He was about to return home to Maine after being at sea and he stopped for a bite to eat when a local drew this picture of him. I cherish this picture. It didn't cost him a penny, but for all these years, he has saved it. When I look at it I wonder what the person who drew it thought of him? Did they respect him? Did they think he was brave? Handsome? How lucky they were, for a brief minute, to capture my Pepe so accurately. He was 22. That's younger than I am. This picture is now mine, and it will belong to my children with stories of Pepe and all his glory. Later this week, I plan to have it restored and professionally framed. I will cherish it for the rest of my life along with memories I share with only my Pepe.

Thank you, Pepe, for a great visit. I love you more than words.