August 4, 2000
By Oyamel Gonzalez
Late as always, but we were there.
After moving all our healthy snackscheetos, fritos, salsa, cheese
dip, crackers, cream cheese and some fruitalong with our torn
tablecloth once again, we found the perfect spot.
It was on the slope of a grassy hill.
The lake was a brilliant gray.
The trees were hugging the three suns on the fading sky.
It was one of those humid nights in Texas with lots of mosquitoes.
Yet I wasn't there for the suns, the humid grass, or the cool
jazz musicians.
I was there for the aunts who probably spent their whole paychecks
entertaining a brother who came from far away with his family
to visit the other family whom he had not seen in more than a
few years.
I was there for the grandmother who cried because she was happy
and sad that her husband was not with her all at the same time.
I was there for the children who climbed trees all the way
up but didnt know how to come down and later went running after
fireflies.
I was there to listen to the wise talking about what love is in life and run after little children who needed some tickles.
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