On the night before the last day of junior high I prayed to God that I would wake up and it would be the first day of sixth grade and not the last day of eighth grade. I prayed real hard because, not only did I not want to grow up and thought that my junior high years went by entirely way too fast, I also didnt want to go to the nerdy high school where my parents were sending me. So I laid there and I prayed real, real, real hard, and maybe even tried to hustle Baby Jesus a little. For sure I tried to bargain. If he let me relive my junior high years over again, I would never ask him or anything else, evaaaaaa. Im sure the second time around would be awesome, knowing what I knew now then. So I prayed, so hard that I went into a deep trance. It was dark and there were lots of stars, I wasnt asleep but I wasnt awake either. I was floating and it was very peaceful. And then I realized I was floating backwards, in time! Suddenly I panicked, what if I wanted to go back in time at some other point in my life and I was using it up now, I was wasting my Back to the Future card! As I jerked myself up and came back to the present, I thought, Hijole! That was close, I was almost a pendeja!! I woke up in the morning super glad to go to eighth grade for the last time and that I didnt make a huge mistake. A year and a half later I found myself in bed again. The world was silent. All I could faintly hear was something that sounded like me, my mind mumbling over and over again, This is it. Now is when I want to use it. This is it. Now. I want to use it now. My soul was numb and my mumbling words danced about it like empty dolls. Empty dolls. Thats all I had with me through the night. This is it. Now is when I want to use it. This is it. Now. I want to use it now. But when I woke up the world was still silent. The day before Batman, Superman, Captain America, Rambo and Rocky got in a navy blue car to go for a ride down the rode. The windows were down, Tejano was blaring, and one large brown arm hung out the drivers window, always. It was a beautiful Sunday and they were going to their favorite spot to get some mesquite for a BBQ later that evening. But they never made it, they all died. On Highway 83. In a car accident. Said the man on the other side of the phone. Its been twenty years since that day. My life, my soul, my heart, my brain, my ears and my eyes have never been the same since that day. At some point everything started to function again, but not the same. The gears of my existence make music that haunts clowns. There isnt a moment of my life or a fiber of my being that does not include you in some way. I always pay attention to the words of the music, I stayed out of the rat race, I go on rides with the dogs and take them to the lake, I fight The Man everyday from owning who I am, I get tangled up in gender lines, I try to use the word tremendous as often as I can, I fight being an over consumer, my favorite uniform for life is a tank top, yoga pants and chanclas (although you wore Dickies instead of yoga pants and colorful muscle shirts, like teal and stripes, instead of tank tops with built in shelf bras, but close enough), my favorite sport is still chingasos, I like to make the funnies and have a good time, I drink morning cafecitos slowly, my favorite color is rainbow and my favorite word is Love. And I still love whiskey and the smokies. Aye, Dad. I still pray that I wake up and you are still here. And you are. Still. You are always with me….and are the only man in my clicka of lady angels, just like when we were in Girls Scouts and you were the only Dad troop leader, because, what the heck, why not, right? You were the best Dad I ever had, thank you. Forever your meha, Delilah. Maria T. Besa and Janina Besa Siebert
Posted on: Fri, 23 Jan 2015 02:46:45 +0000
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