El Sal Riff #2-To Ruben, as I ride the plane back to Nueva York,
I’m just now understanding that everyone grows up, including sponsor children. And their madrinas. I’m sorry it took me 7 years to see you again. I’m sorry I don’t always write when I should and that I forget your birthday is in December, not March. I’m sorry that my ability to speak Spanish is limited to business meetings and literature, forcing me to stumble through questions about your school and your family.
I’m sorry your mom felt the need to compliment my blue eyes several times over the course of our day at the museum. I’m sorry I don’t like math or science, that I’m going to be una maestra de ingles. I’m sorry I relied so heavily on the translator, and that I couldn’t make your neighbor’s baby stop crying at lunchtime when I held her.
I’m especially sorry that I wiped out in the Bubble Exhibit, but I’m glad it made you laugh. And I’m sorry they forced you to spend the day with me at Tin Marin; you are not a nina, but a fine young man.
Para el futuro, I’m going to be better at this. I’m not just going to send in my check every month out of Catholic guilt. When people ask about the picture on my desk, I won’t just tell them how we met ( the phrase “ a badass from Esquipulas” may still occur; you remain different and the same.)
The next time I see you, I will ask about your sister in Tacuba and her son and your sister in Aguilares and her daughter. I will bring pictures of mi amigo mejor y mi novio y mis padres so that you can better approve of them all in kind. The next time we meet, I will not hand you a small bag of singles and playing cards and rosaries and crucitas. I will know enough to pack a Messi jersey and a book of Neruda that you can use at your leisure.
El proximo tiempo te encuentro, no voy a necesitar una empleado de CFCA para transladar my half-assed sentences. I will stop being such a gringa, a blaca, a flake. I will speak fluently and beautifully. The next time I’m there, nosotros vamos a entender a juntos.
So , I’m on the plane home, to the ciudad with my life and my job and my clean drinking water. The plane is scary, you’re right, but it’s also exciting and boring and loud and quiet. And yes, estoy cansada, but for the first time in a while that is not bothering me. Ruben, I’m proud of the man you’ve become, empathetic and motivated and I know I have little to do with any of that. I hope you’ll always be un tio bueno y, mas importante, un hombre bueno. I hope we do meet again, and that I’ll hold to my end of the deal. Mostly, I just wanted to let you know that I’m gonna try hard not to forget you in the day to day, and that I hope you are busy and joyful enough to forget about me.
Vaya con Dios,
LisaMaria.
