And I Pray

In honor of Viernes Santo (Holy Friday/Good Friday) guess what I did?! Learned some spanish Our Father’s and prayed with my grandmother. I was putting her to bed last night and she was telling me that I was a good girl. But then she paused and said, “But you don’t like to pray…” then looked to me for a response. And of course I didn’t want her to think I was a sinner, so I said, I don’t know how to pray…and quickly added, “In spanish.” Even though I don’t know how to pray, like for real, in English either. I think there are special words and poem things you are supposed to say. Or at least she uses that method. So She taught me how to make a cross with my fingers and cross myself and cross my forehead and mouth and heart. I said lots of words like Nuesto padre, pecadores, te ofrezco mi trabajo, mis palabras, mis obras. She was happier than a spring chicken after that little session!
I had fun too, but I hope this doesn’t turn into a new responsibility that I’ll have to study and practice and feel guilty for not doing…I’m already working on this language called spanish, and I don’t know if I can handle another called Catholocism…

Under this Same Roof

We coexist, but we live on different planets. Under this same roof, and yet a world away.

Through the Lense of Time

oil on paper, 2009

In la abuelita’s eyes everything is a bit altered. In la abuelita’s eyes every object is a jewel, an expensive treasure from her past life. These glasses are to be placed on her bedside table in case she should need them in the night. She hasn’t ever used them.
“Although I would like to clean the house, how can I deny her this palace of treasures? And must I insist that they serve no purpose? Or that a small crack and a loose screw devalue something so completely as to be thrown in the trash? That something old has less value than something new?