They're sleeping quietly in the next room. Citlali, nestled in the top bunk, bold bright daughter, surrounded by her brown baby dolls and toy trains. Sleeping off an exhausting day of chasing brothers, sassy poses and intricate reorganizing of her and her brothers toys. Metzonali, sound asleep in the bottom bunk, head tilted, lips slightly parted, blanket clutched, my sun lightly drooling away his day. A day filled with climbing, pedaling, and storytelling. Not to mention convincing his grandmother to chase after him playing "Mama Dinosaur". I think of them, knowing they are safe, knowing that I can tip toe into their room, interrupt their dreams with kisses and caresses, linger in their scent and memorize the gentleness in their faces. I can look forward to tomorrow, their voices interrupting my morning routine, trying to sync with me. Asking me what is in store for them today. Where will they go? Who will they see? I know what to expect, know that everyday very little changes but changes nevertheless. But tonight, a mother contemplates life never being able to feel her childs warmth. Feel their living being. En paz descanse Carlos Fernandez Nava.
http://www.insidebayarea.com/oaklandtribune/localnews/ci_18640007?source=rss
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