diario-de-un-cocazo

[diario-de-un-cocazo]

Even the most mundane moments become precious in the future.

I'm at my grandfather's house. We gathered to celebrate something, it doesn't matter what. The table is too small for everyone, we are more people than before. So I finish my plate and go to the hammock in the corner to take a nap, just like when I was a child. And suddenly I'm in the past. But I'm not at the same time. The noise of their laughs are the same, but the living room is different. There's no sight of grandma's bed. It is gone, just like her. And where are all the toys? Looney tunes? Rugrats? Where are they? And my feet aren't tangling from the hammock, I can easily stand up if I wanted to. Maybe I should go to the store, I wanna grab a bag of chips. But they aren't $1.50 anymore. They are $18 if I go for the cheap ones. And there won't be any Pokemon tazos inside. What if I turn out the TV? Will Dragon ball be airing on channel 7? Ah. Was the animation always this, cheap? The quality of the image, and the sound, was it always this bad? Everything looked like this back then so, I never complained. Oh, but I have a small computer in my hands now. I don't have to go to a cyber cafe in order to have internet. But everything we liked back then is gone. None of the cartoon network games remains anyway, and maybe it's for the better. And it's so quiet. Since I breathe from my mouth, no one can tell I'm crying. There should be a lot of barking. Why is Colita not barking? She is always barking. She was always barking. She lived for 20 years, it's cruel from my part to wish she was still around.

And I cry because I wanted this. I wanted to be able to reach the medicine cabinet. I wanted to be able to drink a beer with the grown ups. Now I work and have paychecks, and don't have to play with mom's make up cause I can buy them for myself. But I don't want to. It was funnier when I wasn't expected to use it everyday. Everything was funnier back then. And I keep crying. And I want my sister to pick me up in her arms, but she can't do that anymore. Instead I carry her children in my arms. One boy and one girl, and it's perfect because I have two hands. And it's bitter sweet cause my nephew cuddles a plushie that used to be mine. They don't know how much they will miss this day either. They don't know that my mom only has some strings of gray hair, but one day it will all her hair. I remember one photo of grandma carrying me in her arms. My mother looks exactly like her right now. And I wanna cry even more. She still cries whenever someone mentions Grandma, and I know I will do the same. She is still here with us, and I'm already missing her. But I don't want to think about it. So I will go wash my face, and grab my nephew and niece hands and go to the store. And get each one of them a bag of chips. And hope that one day, when they are grieving their own childhood, they have something precious to cry about too.

[diario-de-un-cocazo]

[diario-de-un-cocazo]