.....

A memory. 

A few years ago on the phone with my mother. 

I mentioned I would be visiting. She responds with, "aquí te espero".

It translates to something like, "here, I will wait for you". It's not a "see you then". It feels different, like a promise. 

Did my mother always say things like this? Maybe I just didn't notice it before. As she grows older her words at times feel heavier. More important. They carry something extra. They feel like short poems or prayers. Then the other day, my father told me the same thing.

"Aquí te espero.”

…..

"Aquí te espero."

It is a push and pull. 

The push to leave and grow. The pull, the desire, and the call of those we leave behind to return.

"Aquí te espero." 

That is the same promise our family in Mexico made us. This promise says, despite time or distance they will wait for us. They have been waiting for 22 years. I meditate on this idea. I think of the elders back home that can't wait anymore. They are passing away. 

If they are gone, who will wait for us? 

…..

I take my hair which I've been collecting for years and embroider this prayer, this promise, onto lace and hang it in the garden.

I think. Maybe the promise isn't broken. Maybe the dead are still waiting for us somewhere. Maybe death allows us to return to each other in different ways.

I spend time in the garden.

I am also waiting. 

"Aquí te espero."

…..