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Would You Divorce This Woman? Walk For a Minute in Her Shoes.

By: Chuck Machado Uncle Bob achieved the status of Most Honorable one night in Berkley, California. As was our custom in college, we were there to watch the Cal vs. Stanford football game. His inauguration occurred the year before Stanford's band ran on the field, giving Cal that amazing victory in the final minute.

Bob was eight years older and Dino was the equipment manager for Cal. He'd already reached the Most Honorable status several years before -- mainly due to drunken acts of self abuse. In college he'd passed out in his food, nearly suffocating from inhaling mashed potatoes.

That was just one event of hundreds making it impossible for anybody to continue to simply call him Dino. His wife started with the descriptive adjective that was added before his name. That was later shortened to the letter "F". Still, he needed more as his antics surprised everyone ' even those along Telegraph Ave in the wildest city in all of the college towns. It just seemed that another title was necessary as he continued through amazing feats of self-abuse. Of course the F stayed as the most descriptive adjective, but he became Most Honorable long before Uncle Bob reached that plateau. It wasn't long before he became known simply and appropriately as Most Honorable F D.

I don't remember who won the game that year, but I do recall the most significant part of the weekend was when Uncle Bob peed in the bathroom sink. It wasn't that the hotel toilet wasn't working and I specifically remember the bathroom was not occupied, thus precluding his urinary disposition in the traditional sense. He just thought it necessary to relieve himself in this most unusual way and the sink just happened to be there.

Uncle Bob had been toeing the line between the Amazing status and that of Most Honorable for quite some time, but that night in Berkley did it for him. I remember Most Honorable F D and I conducted the ceremony, anointed him with Seagrams VO and then joining him in a round of shots to commemorate the occasion. It was a grand achievement and that weekend we called him Most Honorable Uncle Bob several times.

That was twenty-seven-years ago and last week I visited him in a Veterans Hospital in Southern California. He'd been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis a long time ago, but it was still long after he'd earned the title of Most Honorable.

As is my ritual, I called to alert him that I'd be coming. He readies himself for my trips; getting enough rest in the preceding days and enduring the assistance of a male nurse working his body into a motorized chair. The entire ordeal would take three hours that morning and as always, I brought lunch, and some medicine.

"You're late." He said as I walked up the concrete drive.

He'd been waiting outside, under the veranda, a cigar clenched between his teeth. I noticed his beard was nearly all white now and realized that besides being infirmed, he really was getting old. And grouchy too. He hadn't maneuvered the freeways in ages, so he had no idea what obstacles were involved, but I didn't want to talk about it. For various reasons my frustrations seemed incredibly insignificant at the moment.

"Most Honorable Uncle Bob." I announced, bowing at the waist. "I'm quite certain you'll find the wait was worth it."

He smiled that great big smile of his; teeth yellowing from cigars, that bad left arm no longer working. He reached out with the good one as I hugged and kissed him. I set the paper bag in his lap, the medicine he requested and he fumbled for a new cigar he'd been saving for me.

"Got this guy sending me Cubans." He said, working open the bag. "Let's get some glasses."

Seven years into his diagnosis we went to Alaska to catch King Salmon. He was still walking then, but fatigued easily and thought hard before agreeing to go. We were promised handicapped assistance from the guide service and are still laughing when we recall the forklift used to hoist him into the boat.

The sun was out and we smoked, nodded to a parade of scooter-driven vets, and told stories about the old days. I couldn't help, though, to recall the conversation I had with him a few years earlier.

It was a painful one, not at all pleasant and on a subject that could be broached by only a select few. In fact, I didn't think anybody could have spoken to him about what was going on at the time. I sure didn't want to. We were in his room and without the fortification of additional medicine, I felt obliged to inform him that his wife was having an affair.

Married for thirty years, she wasn't content sitting out her remaining days. And unable to care for Uncle Bob, she now lived alone. Perhaps it was a misery worse than any of us could imagine. I thought that perhaps he'd already heard about it. Maybe she already told him, but it fell upon me, his friend, a member of the Most Honorable club, to offer the branch. To be sure he knew.

"You know, Bobbie." I said at the time. "It doesn't have anything to do with anyone else. Even your kids could never understand the dynamics of a marriage. Until people are in this situation, they'd never know what they would do. In the end," I told him, "it's between you and your wife and God."

He nodded a lot, his speech naturally slurred from working toward the goal of Most Honorable. Now the M.S. had moved in and was taking its turn.

"I already know about it and I appreciate you having the courage to tell me, but I'm all right. I understand. We talked about it a few weeks ago and as long as she's happy, then so am I."

I don't really know if either of them are happy and perhaps the term is a lofty goal. Perhaps a state of mind. I've met my aunt's friend and he's a wonderful man about six years her senior. He'd previousely been nurse to his own wife before her death finally set him free. They visit Bob every week, sometime together and Bob and they play cards and share jokes. Cozy in an odd way.

"I heard Most Honorable FD quit drinking." He said. "We're starting to die off. Do you have anyone else in mind to become Most Honorable?"

In truth, I didn't and considered that at one point becoming Most Honorable required the most audacious behavior and amazing and continued alcoholic triumphs. I knew a few who fit that profile, but something had happened along the way. Uncle Bob and I still sipped our medicine, though not in the quantity we once did and FD decided to stop all together.

But the philosophy of becoming and staying Most Honorable had changed along the way. For me, it was Bob's acceptance of what life had brought to his door. Some would claim he was giving up, but others would recognize the qualities required for Most Honorable.

I really couldn't think of anyone who could step into his shoes.

Article Source: http://www.lifeweightloss.com

In the year 2000, Chuck Machado visited the state of New Mexico and fell in love with green chile. He brought 1000 pounds back to California and together with his wife, Jennie, developed a gourmet recipe launching them into the specialty foods business. Today, he is also President of New Mexico Chile Company, makers of award winning cooking sauces. Visit him at his webside or email him with your views on this article.

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