LARIOS

Imagine falling in love and having your relationship a secret. In a small town secrets don't last long. Herminio and Tere were an item celebrated by their friends and denied open face to face communication. In a time when no social media or even telecommunication access existed the only way for two young love birds to exist was mainly through letters. For three years they wrote to each other while Herminio worked in California and Tere waited for him in Mexico. A new letter arrived every week.....until it did not. In fact the letters stopped for three months without explanation or reason. On the brink of a break up as it was common for those out of the country to form new relationships in their new habitat it was assumed that one of them had given up. Until a creative idea saved the day....The mystery of the lost letters in this series of Soulmates.

Poema del DiaQue alegria celebrar tu presecia en esta vidaCompartir un tiempo y darte lo que pidasSonreir or plear pero siempre contigoEncontrar mi paz en tu voz tan seguidoTe encantaba vestir a tu nina y jugar con tu mona vivaCon vetidos de holanes y mi cabello en colitas apretadas sin compasionSin necesidad de usar hair spray pues habia limon.En el norte en esos dias Sin internetSin telefonoCon pura oracion te contectabas con tu madreRecuerdo cuando me llevaste contigo para visitar a tus padresCrusabamos los cielos de un mundo nuevo a un mundo del pasadoSentia tu alegria y tu tristeza entorcida como un bolero amadoRecuerdo como lloraste al aterrizar el avionEn silencio te observaba sin entender tu dolorJuntas llegamos al lugar donde crecisteEl lugar donde te enamorasteY de donde al final de donde te escapasteTe observe en silencio. Siempre lloravas al llegar y otra vez al despedirte.Planchando tu ropa en tu cuarto viejo preparandote para irte Mientras tu madre escondia sus lagrimas detras de un reboso obscuroY las dos bailaban este danse triste y complicado.Aprendi que para crecer aveces tenemos que soltar lo que mas amamosQue cualquier sacrificio hecho por amor es como nos salvamosSeguir nuestro destino y luchar por un futuro desconocidoTener fe y recordar de donde venimosPorque el amor nunca desaparese, sigue vivo fuera del tiempo o distanciaNo vive en un pueblo ni en el pasadoNos sigue siempre en donde estamos.Pero estoy agradesida por haberme intreducido a tu mundoEste mundo viejo esta borrandose sin poder parar el cambioSerenatas, primas y primos, rodeos, y birriaSerpentinas, y flores de papel, churros frescos, y los BukisEl catillo con buscapiesY la banda con el eco de los cuetes al tronar sacuden todo el pueblo.El vivir bajo las regas de "que diran la gente" Con la libertad de escapar esas limitaciones.Gracias.

One of my greatest fears growing up was the thought of losing my parents. I believe I have grown out of that terrifying fear & now look at the world sometimes with a nostalgic thirst. My parents are still with us but my childlike fear has transitioned into a romantic remenisence the symbols that remindme of them. Where I see both my parents all over the world as if preparing myself, no training myself to see them in this world eternally. For example the other day sow our gardner brought his beautiful young daughter who insisted in joining him to work. Boom! Right before me: There wasmy father.A flashback struck me of how I too would insist in joinning mydad to work when I was young. I would eat his banana in thetruck while I watched him work. I loved watching him work. Why didn't I help you ask? Well I was too pretty of course! No in reality he would ask me to wait because as he delicately explained that I was in the way & he needed to get it done efficiently & more importantly, correctly. But I digress. When I see a woman with beautiful red pails I see my mother. When I see an old beat up Nissan Long bed on the road I see my father. When I see a beautiful homemade tortilla I see, Julia my grandmother. When it rains there is a little gleam of joy knowing my dad will be home and have to stop working wherever he is in the world. When I see a womanwith long beautiful hair past her but I see my mother. What things remind you of your parents in this world?

Reflections on my mother’s experience versus mine. Birthday poem and gratitude

We have recently experienced the loss of family members. This chapter is not so much to tell a story, but rather to share some thoughts, as I’m getting prepared to create the next chapter and the next stories. I’d love your feedback on this podcast you can push the button to provide it and share it, these are scrambled thoughts and ramblings really trying to make sense of the loss and incorporate these beautiful stories. Thank you for listening.Éste no es un capítulo te cuento todavía estoy tratando de completar el siguiente historia. Por el momento comparto un poco sobre la pérdida de nuestros seres queridos y como cambia la realidad de y como afecta nuestra historia.