Watching my beautiful dog-girl Sasha sleep, and snore like a train, brings me incredible comfort these days. She is almost thirteen in human years, and she leads a life I covet. She owns three plush beds, distributed in strategic places around our house, so she can chose where to crash at different times of the day.
Moreover, due to this year’s harsh Floridian winter, she has been sporting a light pink sweater that reads, “Weekends are my favorite.” That print is what prompted me to write this blog because indeed, her life is an endless weekend.
Two weeks ago, on August 31st, my son started fourth grade. Worrying unnecessarily, I thought the six months of watching TV, playing video games, and working out at home with a personal trainer–instead of a group–had altered his ability to get in a routine.
On the contrary, my son woke up, ate breakfast–at the table instead of the couch–and got ready without complaining once. Meanwhile, I packed his lunch bag and reminded him, yelling from the kitchen, to puff his asthma inhaler before brushing his teeth.
Although the morning ritual was pretty much the same as the one pre-pandemic, we made the decision to skip the bus ride. I couldn’t help but look at the once-loved yellow bus, as a giant Petri dish. Perhaps the most lasting effect of Covid-19 is that we have inevitably turned into germaphobes.
There is a saying in self-help literature that I try to keep present in my life: control what you can control. However, I recently found a pearl of wisdom that goes a step farther. Out of all the things I can control, I should only focus on those that matter.
The natural fear of contracting COVID-19, or having a loved one becoming severely ill from it, has launched reactions in all corners of the world. We have changed our lifestyles to cope with the new reality and have a sense of control.
In the midst of all this, the media amplifies sentiments of doomsday 24/7 instead of providing relevant information that could prevent the death toll from rising, such as the findings of recent investigations. Continue reading “Control What Matters”
Last week I finally turned 40. I say it this way because I am the runt of the litter in my besties group and I couldn’t wait to get on the fourth floor!
Kidding aside, I have been 40, mentally, for quite some time because the life that God gave me has been everything but dull. Each year has truly counted by two.
On the day of my birthday, I had the privilege to celebrate with my adoring husband, son, mama, cousin, and the rest of my family in Colombia via Zoom. We cut the cake, sang Happy Birthday, and cried remembering the day when I was born. Continue reading “Aged To Perfection”
Writing for the past few weeks has been impossible for me. It seems my muse is in quarantine as well, but it will come back. I can only hope. Meanwhile, I have been enjoying the idleness and listening to the voice of the planet.
Earth is speaking. The oceans and beaches are cleaner. Dolphins are seen jumping close to shores. Birds can be heard singing at now silent iconic urban parks. And at night, the sky glows with the light of stars that before were invisible to me.
As I was thinking about the voice of the Earth, I remembered a short story I wrote in September 2018. The title is, “The Voice of The Cicada” and it won second place in a Spanish magazine contest. I have never published it because it is part of an anthology I have been working for a while.
I wrote this story after I fell in love with the landscapes and foothills of the eastern Colombian state named Casanare. I visited two years ago and spent a week with one of my uncles who owns a rice plantation in a small town called Nunchía. I hope you like it and share it. I give you,
Last Monday, March 30th, my third-grader started online learning, following the long, stretched Spring break due to the Coronavirus pandemic. Needless to say, it was a nightmare.
The website collapsed a couple of times adding to my son’s anxiety; he randomly clicked the mouse of the computer like a mad-mad.
“I miss my school“, he said, his eyes filling with tears. I didn’t know what to do, so I simply sat next to him and guided him through the day’s assignments. The next morning, I sent an email to his teacher asking if she could send him a message of encouragement. A few minutes later, she invited the entire class to a video call.
Once my son heard his teacher’s voice and saw the faces of a few of his buddies, his face lit up like fireworks. Seeing his smile brought me to tears. Immediately after finishing the call, my son began Tuesday’s tasks without complaining once. Continue reading “A Distant Happy Birthday”
Daily life has changed quickly–and dramatically–in the United States and around the world. The planet’s economies are trying desperately to keep going and forego the financial devastation that is being forecast.
Therefore, working from home is as good as it gets for many companies, big and small, to keep their workforce employed and their services and products available in the marketplace.
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Last week will remain in my memory for many years. Not because of the exponential raise of coronavirus Covid-19 cases around the world, nor the closing of the borders to contain its propagation.
This past week will remain in my memory because of the irrational reaction of millions of people on the face of this global threat: the purchase, in bulk, of toilet paper.
Watching pictures of empty shelves and endless lines outside of supermarkets are not new to me. On the contrary, they are a reminder of our annual hurricane season in Florida, the state where I reside. Continue reading “Fear’s Nature”