A death on our street

Until last night there were three Juancitos in the block where I live in Santa Rosa – me, Juancito who owns the mini-super up the block, and Don Juancito, his father.

Last night Don Juancito died about 7:30 pm, presumably of a heart attack. He almost always had a big smile on his face, even though he lost his wife last year. We’d often greet each other as “tocayo” – a term that means people share the same name.

At times he raised corn in a small plot across the street from his house.

The other day I saw him outside his house chopping the weeds with his machete. I called out to him – but he didn’t hear me.

Neighbors told that they saw him walking up the street yesterday. His sudden death has shaken the neighborhood.

I’ll miss his presence and his gentle smile. He was, in the best sense of the word, a simple man.

“Blessed are the pure of heart, they shall see God.” (Matthew 5: 8)

And I saw God through Don Juancito.