.....He had almost forgotten...for a while now there has been a chill that nestled itself in his heart. A cold feeling, despite being surrounded by warmth..
His mother had called the day prior..to make sure he’d be there.
Of course, he says, of course how could he forget..
Another year that you’re gone.. and another year of seeing abuelo’s face. Wondering if he’d ever know the man behind the frame..
Wondering if he could achieve anything both have done for this family.
He’s home, and despite the smell of food and sweets. He’s still cold..the warmth feels almost numb to his skin. He lights a candle, fixing the alter , preparing it for their plates..
He lights the candles and opens the petals of flowers. Bringing in more from the greenhouse behind the garden. Mama always loves having them homegrown...
Such a beautiful flower...he loves being here, his fingers gently feeling the petals before placing them carefully in the basket... a moment alone before having to return the house..to be alone once again.
Though its a different kind of loneliness as he watches his parents speak to his sister...their pride and joy..
and him..sitting alone..cooking or adjusting things for his mother...
he sits and finds refuge by alter, joined by the dead...
....a strange place for him to fit in..
