The season slipped by us undetected and unmourned. The fact that it’s gone doesn’t even matter. Every Sunday now Papi, Analiza, Victoria, Paco, and I cross the border to meet Abuela Inez at her church, Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe. We enter the chapel quietly. Our eyes adjust to the dimness, tearing up at the strong scent of burning incense. The first thing we do, even before we sit down, is stop by the altar of the Virgen de Guadalupe to light our candles. Papi gives each of us a dime, which we drop into the donation slot in the metal collection box. Then we cluster around Abuela Inez, hold hands, and pray for Mami together. Our only requests are that the chemo treatments ravaging her body do not weaken her spirit and that she can regain herself when the nightmare is over. After mass we push open the heavy wooden doors of the iglesia and step outside.
What do You think about Under The Mesquite (2011)?
