put the kettle on: happy mother’s day
One afternoon in the household appliances section of a store in Guadalajara, I paused by an impressive selection of irons …
One afternoon in the household appliances section of a store in Guadalajara, I paused by an impressive selection of irons …
There are still unguarded moments of dislocation that bring a crushing loneliness and a visceral longing for “home,” for brightly painted front doors and blue space; for a slow pace in a rainy place where strangers say hello to each other; where church bells peal and roosters crow; where there are unplanned sessions in pubs that stay open late if you sing another song for them; and, where there’s always a bus to the city. I will know it when I find it. I will be home.
A match made in heaven? No. In spite of all the tactics and algorithms deployed to make sense of our checked boxes and declare us a 100% match or subsequently updating our relationship as ‘official’ on Facebook, we are making this match right here, right here where angels fear to tread, in the messiness of the middle of two lives that collided at the best and worst of times. There is no wrong time.
I’m sure he exists, but I have never seen the mailman where I live in Mexico. Regardless, I still peek …