The Magic Word

Well, I’m glad I finally got that settled.

Whenever I visited my Uncle Joe in Los Angeles, I could always count on him to use the word “Hijole!” several times during my stay.

I got used to hearing this expression, but it never occurred to me to look it up or ask him what he was talking about.

Now that he’s gone, I finally got around to find out what “Hijole!” actually means.

Pronounced “ee-hoh-leh,” it is interjection used in several Latin American countries “to express surprise, exasperation, or to convey that someone is impressed.”

Translations include the likes of “wow”, or “gosh.”

Wikipedia tells me that hijole is an univerbation, which may sound dirty to all you degenerates out there—and shame on you, by the way—but it only describes a linguistic process that involves combining multiple words into a single word.

For example, the word albeit comes from the Middle English expression al be it, in which “al” means although.

Hijole is an ellipsis of “hijo de puta”, which is not nice at all, however, I only heard Joe use it to register surprise, never venom.

It’s also the name of a tequila brand and a restaurant in Puerto Rico, among other things.

I’m really starting to feel Joe’s loss now. Yes, he was in a very bad way and there was no hope, but his death leaves a terrible gap in our hearts.

Years ago, Stephen Colbert, the late-night talk show host, paused one evening to discuss the death of his mother, who had passed away at 92 years old.

He said that many people had told him how fortunate his family was to have his mother in their lives for such a long time.

Walk and talk

Colbert acknowledged that fact, but explained that having his mother around for all those years also made her passing more painful.

That’s how I feel about Joe, who lived into his 90s as well. It just seemed like he’d be with us forever.

I keep getting the urge to give him a call and shoot the breeze with him, but I know those days are over.

On holidays, when I walked 20-odd blocks up to my sister’s house for dinner, I made a habit of calling Joe and his Sara along the way.

It was early for them, since they're on the West Coast, but not too early to wake them up. The conversation helped pass the time and it was like they were walking with me.

New Year’s Day was the first time in ages that I didn’t make that call.

Now Los Angeles is being ravaged by fires and every day finds some new horror, more footage of smoldering ruins and grieving homeowners.

I’ve got so many good memories of that town and the times I spent there with Joe and Sara, and it is so awful to see all that destruction.

One of my New Year resolution reboots is to be more present, to rein in my brain and stop my mind from wandering where it will go.

It ain’t easy by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ve decided that I’m going to use “hijole!” every time I get distracted, anxious, or frustrated.

Yeah, I know it's probably just another one of my cornball self-improvement stunts that'll go down the drain before the month is over, but I don't care.

It fits in with the concept of glimmers, which unlike triggers, celebrate small moments of joy and peace, instead of pain and misery.

It’s a good way to get my mind back on track while honoring the memory of my dear Uncle Joe.

So on that note…Hijole!