I love my relatives and everything. December is a hectic full of events.

Month. Day in an out for a whole week. I love the laughter and singing.

The food and drink. But after a while…stops being a singular time…

You long to be back to your regular days and schedule. To the time to

yourself. Your own thoughts. Ways. Diet. As you age you don’t enjoy

those old dishes you used to enjoy as much, anymore. You…kind of

have become Spartan in your eating habits. As you age…you eat less

and less. At least, that’s my case. Don’t need as many calories.

I get them not much from food but from red wine. And Tequila and

limes. Came to the cemetery to spend a much needed night to myself.

I brought Lobo to keep me company. Cuco the cat stayed home keeping

Rosa some company. Got all my night supplies. Including my petrol

lamp. The night is fresh and the moon is bright. The old tree above me

caresses me as an old friend. I’m thankful for it. Have a smoke and a

Tequila shot. Two. A lime. Wash it down with some water. Lay on my

Mama’s stone. I hear her bones. As a marimba. They feel warm. She’s

happy. I’m happy. I tell her stuff. She listens patiently. I kiss her marble

stone. Her bones get louder. Sounds as a Marimba from Veracruz.

Love you, Mama. Shut off the petrol lamp. Lay on my back.

Look at the moon…and think about the fragility of the moment that will

not last more than allowed…as my life…

EO