October 31, Hard day for me.

In memory of a special person.

HUGO GIOVANNI ZELAYA
JUNE 24 1978 - OCTOBER 31 2005




If Hugo were alive today, he would tell you that he was a drug addict.
That is what Hugo in the end lived for.
The drugs that he craved dulled the pain of a life for him,too hard to bare.
But Hugo was so much more than just a drug addict.
Firstly Hugo was a brother,he was loved by his sister and older brother as much as any younger brother could be loved.
He was a father. His life was a shipwreck and he didnt know his son in the way a father should, but nothing can take away the fact that it was his blood that flowed in that little boys veins. As much as he didnt have the strength to stand up and be a 'daddy' for his child, he still loved him, and beneath all the layers there was a softness in him, whenever he spoke about his child.
He was a talented communicator. Unfortuatley bad decisions made him use this incredible talent in a way that got him in trouble. When he was stripped of his bravado, and excuses, his honesty and ability to communicate warmth was phenomenol.
He was good with his hands and could have been a great tradesman, but instead he used this skill to steal cars to fuel his addiction.
All these things, and many more describe the Hugo that I knew, If he would have seen the person that I saw, the talented dynamic, kind, person that I saw, he would still be alive today.
Most important, in the end Hugo was my friend. In our long talks through the phone wires between El Salvador, and Canada, I got to know this person, who became like a son to me. I know that if he had of stayed in Canada, if he hadn't of had the addiction problems he had in El Salvador, if he hadn't of became one of El Salvador's unwanted, he wouldnt have had time for this 48 year old mom.
Hugo needed me, he needed the connection to his life here in Canada. I needed Hugo, to feel like I still had a connection to our foster child,(his birthson) who was adopted out of our home at age 3 1/2. We had fostered this child from 5 weeks old.
Through this mutual need, I found a friend.
For two years Hugo would call, and I would encourage, scold, listen, plan, suggest. As I look back on those two years, Hugo would take 1 step away from his destructive lifestyle one week, and two steps towards it the next week. It was a steady progression of the impossibleness of his life, and the escape that drugs gave him.
On October 31 2005, Hugo bought drugs off of some gang members. He knew that I would not send the money to pay them off, although in the end he pleaded for me to help him.
They killed him that evening as if it were a game for them. I heard their voices in the background telling him to get money from me,as he phoned me one last time from a payphone in the afternoon.
For me, it has been a long grief. I have not gotten over his traumatic death easily. His last phone call to me plays over in my head sometimes. His weakness, and inability to rise above his pain laughs at me, and tells me that he did have other choices besides the ones he made. I know that.
What brings me the most peace now, is knowing that I was blessed to be given the chance to see beyond his addiction, to see him, his incredible beauty, and potential as a human being.
I was just never quite able to communicate to him what I saw, so that he would actually believe it. He saw a drug addict, loser, I saw a valuable human with so much to give.

I miss him.