Fall always reminds me of a few things.  One, It reminds me that soon we will be eating delicious food (Tamales, Pozole, Champurrado, etc.) all the way up until January.  Two, it reminds me of my college years because that’s when I met my husband.  Third, my Abuelo.  Although he passed away 15 years ago this November, we were able to create so many memories.

He was a funny man and a prankster (As I have mentioned before.).  The mischievous DNA strand that I have, caused me to prank him back.  I know we should have respect for our grandparents, but it’s not my fault because both Abuela and my Abuelo were so fun! LOL

When I would spend the night at their house, in the middle of the night while everyone was sleeping, I would randomly make my hair really crazy (which wasn’t hard to do given I have naturally big, crazy, wild, curly hair).  Strategically, I would sit on the top frame of the couch for an unsuspecting victim (insert evil laugh). With the quiet, stillness of the night, and a small glimmer of light peering in through the window, creating almost a haunting silhouette on my face—I waited.   My intention was for my Abuelo to see me and get startled; so I would make some soft rustling sounds to try and wake him up.  Frozen like an little, evil-smiling troll, I would sit there waiting patiently.  (Waiting patiently is the secret to a good prank.) Suddenly, he would wake up and he would get so startled.  It always worked and it would take us a while to go back to bed with so much laughter.

Interestingly, there is so much scary folklore in the Mexican culture.  We hear family talk about La Llorona, La Mano Peluda, El Chubacabras and so much more that going to bed sometimes becomes a process for kids and sometimes even adults.  One day, instead of doing the usual evil troll bit, I decided I would do something a bit more scary and intense.  Everyone had gone to bed.  I always slept in the same room as my Abuelos, so pulling off this one prank was going to be the easiest thing on earth!  I got up, walked over to where my Abuelo was sleeping, I pulled his legs hard and ran back to where I was sleeping.  I don’t know how I held my laughter in, but he got up saying, “Me jalaron las patas!”  He got so scared that he talked about it all night until the next day.  My Abuela knew what I had done but we kept silent.   We finally decided to tell him that it was me.  The torture was too much but we all got a good laugh.  Till this day my Abuela will mention it from time to time–because in those moments, we remember the joy of life.  Although, there were always difficult moments, there were laughs, jokes and pranks–that we remember as family–even when loved ones have long since passed.

Every Autumn, my Abuelo would pull out a heavy brown jacket.  It seemed like each year, he had a different heavy jacket.   I have no idea where he would get them, but I thought they were so cool.  He was so original in his attire (OG) that when he would wake up, he would walk outside on those brisk fall mornings with coffee in hand and his brown coat pulled over his shoulders.  He would look at me, nod a good morning, and walked away to begin his day.

Feliz Otoño Abuelo. 

Fifteen years ago today, I remember sitting at the doctor’s office early in the morning waiting my turn to been seen.  I was 6 months pregnant and was having complications.  A month prior I was put on bed rest because I started having contractions.  Already had been through 6 miscarriages, the risks were high.

I remember watching the t.v. in the waiting room and the program stopped for breaking news.  Couldn’t really hear what was going on but I could see that it wasn’t good and it was scary.  All of sudden, a plane hits and a building goes down soon after.  Every one in the waiting room gasped for air.  Couldn’t figure out what was happening or where it was.  But we had witnessed the inexpressible, the incomprehensible and the unthinkable.  I got called in for my appointment, and walked away in confusion.

I got home, turned on the t.v. and could not believe what was going on.  So many lives were lost.  So much fear hovered over the country and the people.

So many say that 9/11 was a conspiracy but I also here those who are sensitive to what happened on 9/11/01.  I believe this is more of a heart issue because countless lives were lost and many risked their own lives to save others.  Loved ones are gone and their family still hurt to this day.  So many are still risking their lives for all of us who reside here in the U.S. so we can feel safe to drive down our streets.  Yes, there are still threats, violence and drugs but try living in a 3rd world country where people have to be inside their homes by sundown.  Try living in a country where cartels controls the streets.  Try living in a country where you have to kill to survive.  Yes our Latino population has struggles here in the U.S., but struggles for survival are everywhere.  We have been able to over come time and time again.  We are fighters, survivors- Y luchamos porque esta en nuestra sangre. 

Let’s stop the hate, and be proactive instead.  Step up to the plate and show in deeds what we are capable of doing.  We are intelligent, skilled, talented and clever enough to make a positive impact in this country.  It’s time we put the “blame card” away and work with what we have and make it happen.  Our children are watching, and our country is at stake.  Why do I say our country?  Because I live here and was born here like many of you.  Don’t get it twisted, I love my Mexican culture and I’m pretty sure it’s obvious by now.  But I also have to think about where I live and the future of my children, whom I’m pretty sure will also continue to live in the U.S. in the years to come.

SPREAD LOVE, NOT HATE.

Much love,

Silvia

Oh, and that little girl I was making sure was ok on September 11, 2001, is growing to be one of the most talented, beautiful young lady I have ever known. (I can say that because she is my little miracle baby.)