Cuatro Generaciones

Home is where we are.

Everyone converging from the interior of Mexico, Carolina, Michigan, Texas, Arizona, Northern, Southern, y Baja California.

Seamlessly slipping from Spanish to English, laughter to tears, quiet moments, the exchanging of photos, phone numbers and emails.

The women tending to the kitchen, home and heart. The men, lending quiet strength, setting up the tables and chairs, running the errands, and driving back and forth from the airport. All the children a collective responsibility as abuelitas, tios, tias and primos tend to the needs of the next generation. A lift into the treehouse, a soccer game, a gentle push on the tire and swing, arms to rest in when they grow tired but are not sent to bed.

Bonfires and red wine with my primos. Sleeping three to a bed. Watching MTV3's while doing our makeup, to hide the desvelada. Admiring but not commenting on que guapas se ven todas, the big sunglasses hiding tired eyes.

The mass, the trio, sharing countless meals, and toasting with tequila to the familias, past, present and future. Cuatro generaciones de amor, presente.