Uno Mas Cerveza Por Favor

“There are few life problems that can’t be solved with a good beer and good conversation.”

I’ve heard her say that a few times in my life.  Mom was a tough lady, not taking bullshit from anyone and calling you out on it.  She was strong willed and always spoke her mine.  When we watched sports her toughness would come out, yelling at the players, be it in person on in the back yard on the small portable black and white TV.

During the cool summer nights we could always grab a six pack, a few limes, the salt shaker, and sit in lawn chairs, just staring up at the bright stars.  Some nights silence filled the air, speaking volumes between us, sounds of popping beer tabs breaking the silence from time to time, while other times roaring laughter late into the night between our family and the neighbors.

Good beer and good conversation.

Mom’s children were grown now, with some scattered across the country, having families of their own, but one thing was a constant over the years, good beer and good conversation.  Every time someone came to visit, laughter would fill the house, often starting with, “Do you remember…” and ending with tears and soar sides.

Sometimes the conversation would get heated, treats of being knocked out until next Wednesday were thrown out, and then someone would leave in a huff, dragging their children out the door behind them.  Anger may have lasted for a few days but that’s what siblings do and mom reminded us of that often.

Once again, we find ourselves in a rough spot, but instead of being at each other’s throats we are holding each other tight with hugs.  Mom has been on her death bed for a while now and has maintained that she will go out on her terms, the tough lady in her taking over.  All we can do is to honor her request, she’s lived a long fruitful life and has earned it.

It’s hard to watch this strong woman who has taught me so much to slowly leave us.  She can barely eat or drink anything but she tries.  With spring around the corner the weather was perfect for sitting outside and watching the world go by.  One morning mom asked that all of her children come to the house at dusk, and to make sure we brought beer, limes, and the salt shaker.

As the sun was getting ready to fall below the horizon, the stars faintly visible at the same time, the lawn chairs were set up and mom was brought outside.  We all sat down, beer in hand, and watched silently as the sun grew smaller and smaller in the distance.  Laughter filled the air as a smile spread across mom’s face, drinking her beer slowly, enjoying an old friend.

Mom listen to her children relive memories of their childhood and tell stories of their children and grandchildren.  Everyone was happy, the sadness in our lives being solved by good beer and good conversation.  We were so engulfed with laughter than we had not noticed mom had fallen asleep for the last time.  Mom helped us all to heal with good beer and good conversation.


Do you know what a sin is?  I do.  It’s taken me a long time to figure out every sin there is and was of getting around them, loopholes, if you will.  After two thousand years I’ve learned the loopholes all too well.

Yes, you read that correctly, I’m an immortal, and I’m over two thousand years old.  Jesus, is usually the first thing people say when I tell them how old I am, or that I can not sin.  Well, you’re right, it’s all his fault.

Yes I did know who Jesus was, yes I have meet him, and yes he I hate him with every fiber in my immortal body.  I know what you’re thinking, how can I hate, hate is a sin?  Wrong.  That’s a lie your religious leaders tell you to keep you in line.  Hate is an emotion, not a sin.

You know who I am, you’re even heard about the time I met Jesus, what you do not know is my name.  My name is Bayla.  It means beautiful and my beauty is also my curse.

When Jesus started his ministry I was among his followers.  I was taken in by his message and knew he was going to save us from the Romans.  I seen his perform miracle after miracle.  I was a believer, until he cursed me.

The Pharisees were always trying to catch Jesus in a situation saying something they could use as an excuse to kill him.  My beauty brought me many suitors and what can I say, I like sex.  So the Pharisees took me before Jesus and told him that I was an adulteress.  By the Mosaic Law I was supposed to be stoned to death.

Is the story sounding familiar yet?  Jesus told them, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”

Those traitorist sons of bitches walked away one by one, dropping stones they had hidden in their robes.  When they left Jesus looked up at me, surprised to still see me standing there.  Somehow he knew I had slept with three of those backstabbing bastards.

“Where did they go,” Jesus asked.  “Did no one throw a stone?”

“No,” I answered, still in shock at what just took place.

“Well I’m not going to condemn you,” he said as he stood up and walked over to me.  Taking both of my hands in his, he looked down into my eyes, piercing deep into my soul.  “Now go and sin no more.”

That’s what did it, that’s what turned me immortal and took away my ability to sin.