Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye in a dream then waking up is even harder.
I dreamt my mother, my grandmother and I were at Longs Drugs (I refuse to call it CVS now, fuck that). Only this one is huge like a Wal Mart. My grandma is wearing my sweats from Middle School for some reason, my favorite sweats that are so baggy and huge, as was the fashion in 1998, that they STILL fit me to this day.
She said she had to go to the bathroom and we continue shopping. We buy nothing and we go in search of my grandma to the bathroom.
We find her sitting at a chair outside the bathroom door, with a serene smile. My mother says something along the lines of "Lets go Mom".
"you guys go, I think I'll stay here" she answers back. Thats when it hits me. My grandma passed away on March 23, 2009. How in the F is she here shopping with us?
"Ok thats NOT creepy" my smartass mutters as we leave the store my mother and I and get in the car.
Something makes me look back. Its my grandma. Shes getting on the back of a Harley Davidson hog, driven by a blond rebel looking dude with a leather jacket and shades, a bad ass from the '50s.
"Say bye to your abuelita" my mom says.
I look out the window and see the bike is following us. "Where is she going?" I ask. I get no response.
The whole time my grandma has a smile on her face, the bike starts to elevate and ride up...two three feet.
The bike passes us on the right side and I see my grandma smiling as the bike elevates higher, riding into the sky.
My stupid ass is crying by now and one last time I say another smartass stupid thing:
*crying*..."my sweats..." shes taking my favorite sweats to heaven.
My grandma almost telepathically probably heard me. With one quick swipe she takes them off and i look next to me to the left and on the car seat are my sweats neatly folded. I cry more.
Then I wake up. Takes me a second to take everything in, and real tears come to my eyes and flood my face for 5 minutes.
Rest In Peace Grandma Chayo. Everyone still and will miss you.
I know youre watching over me.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The Guadalupe Reyes Marathon
Guadalupe Reyes. No its not the name of someone, althought it might as well could be. Its the name given to a pseudo holiday time, spanning the last weeks of the months of December. It starts on December 12th, Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and it ends on January 6th, Day of the Reyes Magos (hence the name Guadalupe Reyes, oh those clever Mexicans).
It just so happens that during these three weeks, there are a total of 16 (more, if you want to make up your own, or if your birthday falls during these weeks) celebrations. Posadas, traditional Mexican Christmas celebrations are celebrated for 9 days. They re-enact Mary and Joseph's plight, searching for an Inn to deliver their baby, only to find none.
At Posadas, people sing songs, pray, and conclude by hitting pinata's, eating the candy inside and the for the adults, they gorge on Tamales or other foods and drink Fruit Punch spiked with booze...or just plain booze. A little hooch to warm you up in the December night cold, while singing carols, oh those wacky Mexicans. Nine days of eating and drinking, all in honor of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Then comes Christmas Eve, Nochebuena, December 24th. The biggest and last Posada is celebrated. A traditional dinner consists of Tamales or Birria, or other foods, and of course excessive drinking of tequila, mescal, sotol, bacanora, aguardiente, rum, beer or any other alcohol beverage known to man or alien. Christmas Gifts are usually exchanged and opened at Midnight, and after opening presents, more drinking.
Christmas Day is for family, opening presents or spending half the morning yacking in the bathroom. A warm bowl of Menudo is apropos for curing one's hangover. Later at night, more drinking.
Three days later on December 28th, is the Day of the Holy Innocents. A sort of April Fools, practical jokes are played on one another. Parties are held and alcohol intake commences once more.
December 31st is New Years Eve. Parties and Firework Blasts light up the night (both fun and bad, the ones that destroy markets or obliterate half the city block due to improperly handled gunpowder and rockets). 12 Grapes are eaten for good luck, one for each month of the year, and of course, booze and drinking contests go on. A fun one is to take a shot of tequila every time a Gobierno Federal commercial comes on, reminding Mexican citizens all is well in the country.
January 1st New Years Day. Everything is dead, everyone feels almost dead. Vomit covers the sidewalks and drunkards awaken on park benches wearing beer carton boxes on their heads. What happened? God Knows. Later, time for more drinking !
January 6th Dia de Reyes (Epiphany). On this day, the good little children who werent assholes all year receive gifts. They write a letter to the 3 Wise Men and leave in inside a shoe. The morning of the 6th the children run to see what the Reyes Magos brought them. Rosca de Reyes bread is eaten, with a little plastic baby inside. Whoever shall find the baby in their piece (and doesnt choke to death on it) has the honor of throwing a party on Dia de La Candelaria (Candlemas) on February 2nd... Mexicans just love weird ass excuses to throw parties.
(you could stop here, if your liver demands it and youre close to dying of Cirrhosis or if youre a savage you could celebrate ol' Lupe's real name: Guadalupe Reyes Candelaria)
February 2nd. Dia de La Candelaria. People drink hot chocolate, canela spiked with tequila (piquete), and eat a shitload of Tamales. Morning is for church and religious processions in honor of la Virgen de la Candelaria and the nighttime is for music, dancing, partying, fireworks and excessive drinking.
The goal of this Marathon is to drink every day. From Dec 12 to Jan 6th, or Feb 2nd if your liver and kidneys dont fail on you. No this doesnt involve running or exercize, you can stop sweating now.
Enjoy! Good Luck!
It just so happens that during these three weeks, there are a total of 16 (more, if you want to make up your own, or if your birthday falls during these weeks) celebrations. Posadas, traditional Mexican Christmas celebrations are celebrated for 9 days. They re-enact Mary and Joseph's plight, searching for an Inn to deliver their baby, only to find none.
At Posadas, people sing songs, pray, and conclude by hitting pinata's, eating the candy inside and the for the adults, they gorge on Tamales or other foods and drink Fruit Punch spiked with booze...or just plain booze. A little hooch to warm you up in the December night cold, while singing carols, oh those wacky Mexicans. Nine days of eating and drinking, all in honor of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Then comes Christmas Eve, Nochebuena, December 24th. The biggest and last Posada is celebrated. A traditional dinner consists of Tamales or Birria, or other foods, and of course excessive drinking of tequila, mescal, sotol, bacanora, aguardiente, rum, beer or any other alcohol beverage known to man or alien. Christmas Gifts are usually exchanged and opened at Midnight, and after opening presents, more drinking.
Christmas Day is for family, opening presents or spending half the morning yacking in the bathroom. A warm bowl of Menudo is apropos for curing one's hangover. Later at night, more drinking.
Three days later on December 28th, is the Day of the Holy Innocents. A sort of April Fools, practical jokes are played on one another. Parties are held and alcohol intake commences once more.
December 31st is New Years Eve. Parties and Firework Blasts light up the night (both fun and bad, the ones that destroy markets or obliterate half the city block due to improperly handled gunpowder and rockets). 12 Grapes are eaten for good luck, one for each month of the year, and of course, booze and drinking contests go on. A fun one is to take a shot of tequila every time a Gobierno Federal commercial comes on, reminding Mexican citizens all is well in the country.
January 1st New Years Day. Everything is dead, everyone feels almost dead. Vomit covers the sidewalks and drunkards awaken on park benches wearing beer carton boxes on their heads. What happened? God Knows. Later, time for more drinking !
January 6th Dia de Reyes (Epiphany). On this day, the good little children who werent assholes all year receive gifts. They write a letter to the 3 Wise Men and leave in inside a shoe. The morning of the 6th the children run to see what the Reyes Magos brought them. Rosca de Reyes bread is eaten, with a little plastic baby inside. Whoever shall find the baby in their piece (and doesnt choke to death on it) has the honor of throwing a party on Dia de La Candelaria (Candlemas) on February 2nd... Mexicans just love weird ass excuses to throw parties.
(you could stop here, if your liver demands it and youre close to dying of Cirrhosis or if youre a savage you could celebrate ol' Lupe's real name: Guadalupe Reyes Candelaria)
February 2nd. Dia de La Candelaria. People drink hot chocolate, canela spiked with tequila (piquete), and eat a shitload of Tamales. Morning is for church and religious processions in honor of la Virgen de la Candelaria and the nighttime is for music, dancing, partying, fireworks and excessive drinking.
The goal of this Marathon is to drink every day. From Dec 12 to Jan 6th, or Feb 2nd if your liver and kidneys dont fail on you. No this doesnt involve running or exercize, you can stop sweating now.
Enjoy! Good Luck!
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Reunion at the Morgue
Francisco boarded a passenger bus on Sunday morning in Mexico City. He was to be reunited with his brother who he hadnt seen in 20 years.
His brother Rafael's family had recently contacted him and persuaded him to visit the family's home in Guaymas, Sonora, in the north. Francisco happily agreed and told his wife of the plan. She was happy as well and agreed to accompany her husband on the trip up north.
The bus ride was uneventful. But tragedy and death awaited the couple. In the state of Sinaloa, right over the Nayarit border, a tanker truck crossed the center divide and smashed head on into the passenger bus.
Francisco and his wife had no chance. They were seated in seats 3 and 4. The two, along with 30 other passengers perished that night in a horrifying accident between the cities of Mazatlan, Sinaloa and Acaponeta, Nayarit.
At the Guaymas Bus Station, Francisco and his sons awaited his brother and uncle's visit. The bus never arrived.
Francisco inquired at the desk and he was given the grim news: The bus had suffered an accident outside Mazatlan, Sinaloa. He was devastated.
Their family reunion would be at the Mazatlan morgue. He identified his brothers corpse, among the rows of bodies from the wreck. The man he hadnt seen in 2o years. The surprise he expected, turned into horrible tragedy.
Francisco Fajardo Barajas' dream of seeing his brother Rafael was left, shattered and destroyed, along with his life, on the side of a road in Sinaloa.
His brother Rafael's family had recently contacted him and persuaded him to visit the family's home in Guaymas, Sonora, in the north. Francisco happily agreed and told his wife of the plan. She was happy as well and agreed to accompany her husband on the trip up north.
The bus ride was uneventful. But tragedy and death awaited the couple. In the state of Sinaloa, right over the Nayarit border, a tanker truck crossed the center divide and smashed head on into the passenger bus.
Francisco and his wife had no chance. They were seated in seats 3 and 4. The two, along with 30 other passengers perished that night in a horrifying accident between the cities of Mazatlan, Sinaloa and Acaponeta, Nayarit.
At the Guaymas Bus Station, Francisco and his sons awaited his brother and uncle's visit. The bus never arrived.
Francisco inquired at the desk and he was given the grim news: The bus had suffered an accident outside Mazatlan, Sinaloa. He was devastated.
Their family reunion would be at the Mazatlan morgue. He identified his brothers corpse, among the rows of bodies from the wreck. The man he hadnt seen in 2o years. The surprise he expected, turned into horrible tragedy.
Francisco Fajardo Barajas' dream of seeing his brother Rafael was left, shattered and destroyed, along with his life, on the side of a road in Sinaloa.
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