My Tata

Heriberto Sandoval carries his brown felt scapular around his neck. He doesn’t like to talk about the
history of the scapular very much but from what he has said, it was a gift from his sister. He always has it
around his neck and hardly if ever takes it off. It’s one of the only things he has from one of his family members
He carries pictures of his grandchildren. He has them in
his old little flip phone, in his wallet and in random pockets of his
worn-down flannels. His grandkids, Illiana, Emily, Miah, Karelli,
Jacob, Itzel, Alberto, and Isaiah, are his pride and joy, the one
thing he believes he got right. He always has them with him he
loves seeing his grandchildren, whether it be in person or in
photographs.
He carries a tool. The tool changes every day, and he
hardly ever needs it, but he feels better when he has one with
him. He likes to feel that at any moment something will break
and he’s going to be the hero with the right tool to fix it. It gives
him a sense of pride that he not only has a tool handy but that
he’s able to use it.
He carries his stubbornness. He is a strong-willed person
and is usually found arguing with his oldest daughter or his
oldest son, usually over his medical needs. He stands strong on
his belief that he can handle his own and that he doesn’t need
any doctor to over charge him and tell him he’s fine. He believes what he believes and nothing on this earth will
change his mind.
He carries his resentment. His father had left him and his family at a very young age. He was left to
take care of his mother who was suffering from a very painful disease all on his own. He was the one his
mother relied on to bring back food and to take care of her. He resents how his father left him to watch his
mother scream in pain every day until she died when he was 14. He resented his father because he saw him
as the reason that he had to be on his own for the rest of his life. When his kids were born, he was scared they
were going to resent him the way he resented his father if he was too harsh. So, he was never a strict father
towards my mother and her siblings. He was always buying them whatever he could afford and was always
there when any of them asked. He didn’t want them to feel as if he had abandoned them or didn’t loved them.
He carries this resentment towards his father as his motivation to treat his kids better. He would stop at nothing
to make sure they know how much he loves them.
He carries his fear. He doesn’t say much about what he fears but deep down he fears not being needed
anymore. He’s gotten older, his body isn’t in the same condition as it once was. The alcohol diet he’s
maintained slowly deteriorates his insides and leaves him a lot weaker and with a lot of medical conditions. His
body is starting to fail him. He falls a lot more often, he can’t carry anything above a few pounds, and his hands
won’t allow him to work or fix anything. These things make him feel as if soon everyone is going to need to
take care of him instead of them needing him. He wants to be needed, strives when people need him. But now
more than ever he fears reaching a point where he’s not needed anymore. His kids have grown up and are for
the most part independent, his grandchildren aren’t children anymore and although they visit it’s not as often or
for as long. There’s no more awe and wonder at what Tata does as his oldest grandchild, Illiana, turns 23,
most of his grandchildren are between the ages of 20 and 16, the youngest grandchild turns 12 in December
and as Isaiah heads into adolescence he’s terrified of the fact that he might not be needed anymore.
While his grandchildren may not marvel at everything he does, each one still asks him questions, likes
listening to his stories, and loves when he teaches them any of his “magical” skills. Yes, they’ve grown, and
things have changed, but what he doesn’t realize is that he will always be needed. After all, who would they be
without their Tata.
*He’s taught me a lot of handyman trades and how to play the accordion, sure sometimes he gets repetitive, but when we
listen it makes him happy, and after everything he’s done for us, if all he wants is for us to need him then I’ll always need
my Tata.*
Okay so for the document I cut some sentences my partner said kind of didn’t work with the flow and I added in some
sentences here and there to make the overall thing have a solid storyline rather than be separate pieces. My partner
wanted more emotion behind the objects and I completely understand why but I couldn’t add anything more. This is
simply because it’s not in my tata’s nature to be emotional or expressive, so in all honesty these are based purely off
observations I’ve made and from the whispers of my family members. The only parts of the “story” I can tell you is one
hundred percent accurate are the bits about the scapular and his mother’s death. My partner made a lot of great
comments but I wanted to keep his essence in the memoir and I felt like a little mystery behind some aspects or some
random things here and there really play into that. I also changed some of the word choices I used and switched around
the order of some sentences and words to give the memoir a better sound.