The House on Hillside
I am a believer. As spring approaches and the flowers begin to bloom, I can’t help but think of the days when as children we gathered at Mami Maria and Papi Toño’s house. The adults would talk and cook, while all the kids ran around, playing bote or hide and seek.
I remember clearly running through the field of flowers, the gentle breeze caressing my skin, and giggles filling the air. The bright colors made me think I entered a different world. The smells are still present thirty-something years later. Those were treasured moments, sharing them with my cousins, my brothers, my sister.
What I remember the most is my feeling that anything could be possible, and it was. The world was unfolding before us, we just did not know it at the time.
Life happens, and those feelings of being able to fly slowly get chipped away. Funny thing is that eventually they come back. It’s like riding a bicycle, once you know, you know.
This is important. Be a believer, in what you can accomplish, in your dreams, in the dreams of others. All we really want is to know we matter, that we are loved, that we are seen.
We need witnesses to our lives. Can you imagine what this world would be if we held space for each other?
I recently visited the house on Hillside. It’s gone and so are the fields of flowers, the orchards, but I will carry those memories forever. All I have to do is close my eyes and I can travel back to those lovely days. I’m building a new home now, no fields of flowers, but fertile ground it is.
*Photo credit: Maggie Malagon
