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Wake me up when it's over.

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  It's nearly 6 am, the sun is beginning to rise and still I haven't slept one wink.  This past day and a half has felt more like weeks. I have spent half the night at the hospital and the rest of this morning here, at home with my older sister and my mother; digging through tubs of photographs. Searching for photos...photos for the wake. My grandfather passed away at exactly 11:30pm last night. And I begin to feel sick to my stomach thinking that less than 24 hours ago I was talking to him about my recent trip to Mexico, he'd asked about the food I ate there (he loved food) "Did you eat a lot of beans out there?" I hear him asking in his goofy old voice. And my mind begins to drift off... To somewhere happier... Now It's nearly 11 pm. It's still Monday.  And I have spent the day here at home with family, with my sisters, aunt, cousins, mother and my grandmother. We spent the day in, like crabs, only opening the door for more family members or to le...
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The Sweetest Nightmares.

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  These past few days I've been having this reoccurring dream, this reoccurring nightmare. I'm still unsure which. In the dream, I wake up one morning in San Cristobal and out of nostalgia and stupidity, I book the soonest flight back home. In the dream there is no time frame, I do not take a 15 hour bus ride back to Cancun or spend the day on a flight back to Ontario. I simply decide I want to go home, and at home I am! Of course everyone is happy to see me and I reminisce on the people and places I've met and seen. The dream never seems to drag on. Like most dreams it starts just as quick as it ends. In this dream, I can never remember too much of anything, except for one feeling. A  heavy feeling of heartbreak of regret. Of anxiousness. Is that a word? Ehh, anyhow. I awake to a world unknown. With the covers pulled over my head, for a second, I am unsure of whether reality was really a dream, or dream a reality. I peel back the covers slowly each time and see the oak w...
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Caminos Entrelazados or Intertwined Paths.

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                                                                                                                      Part 1 We’d met in el mercado, a small one, right in the heart of Chiapas, Mexico. The one on Guyava St.   just   across from the Library. Both of us marveling at the beauty of a Country that wasn’t   our own. Though the color of our skin, made us seem to fit in. Indigenous almost. I was t...
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