home.

This is about the time of night that I feel a deep seated need to write. Especially on days like today. 


I spent the last two weeks in good old Covina, CA with family (and a few friends). I am on the brink of leaving again to go back to Milwaukee for the remainder of the CapCorps year, and I can't help but thinking, why?


It was two weeks full of beautiful people. Their names are Blanca, Carlos, Erika, Danny, Eddie, Picho, Ileana, Mauricio, David, Gabriel, Christina, Leo, Lupita, Alfredo, Marisa, Jonathan, Jose, Javier, and then LOTS of Annichiaricco and Arevalos, etc. (Gloria, Jose, Jose, Gianfranco, Valeria, Fito, Carmen, Chele, Tia Marina), (okay, gosh, there were about a hundred people at that party, so I'll stop and not name them all). 


Why go back? They asked. Don't you miss your family? Then why do you leave? You can work in East LA, there is plenty to do there. I didn't have a good answer and I didn't try to give one. 


I sang songs with my mother. I baked with my sister. Dressed up a couple times, prayed rosaries with family. Argued, laughed, made a big mess of my old room. Learned more about myself, remembered more about myself. Felt safe. and Loved. 


There was nothing cold about this place. It reached well into the 80's for the new year. Sleeveless, no sweater needed. My mother and I attempted to find winter boots and failed. The sky was beautiful. I could see Orion, las Tres Marias. Winter light in California is gorgeous, clear, warming. 


Five people, all on separate occasions, asked me why I would leave. There are plenty of people here who love you. 




I wonder if that is the real measure of home.