EF Civic Sedan

To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven:
-Ecclesiastes 3:1

This Thursday marks six years since Memo died. It was a Thursday when the phone call came through. Genetically, we were related; my cousin of similar but disparate age. I remember that for France '98 we bet on most of the games, waging food. At fiestas we'd play 'futbolitos' (Foosball) against old dudes and win. At night, we'd keep my Dad awake because we kept laughing about stuff.
When he got a job, the first thing he did was buy his little brother a bike. He took care of him mom, and made her quit her job selling chicken at a roadside stand. He was good to my grandma and everybody around him. He owned a Honda Civic, I mean what else can I say. He was a righteous fella.

*Addendum: My cousin and I used to sleep on the floor at this house. At first we didn't have a door, we would get scared about brujas coming in and whatnot.

Humility and Humiliation

The meaning of words is capricious. Their mere murmur is as dynamic as its users; yet, without words human existence if relegated to an incommunicable emptiness. Like many words, both humility and humiliation have traits that can become forgotten and confused. The disparity in their significance, however, is paramount. To those born of humility, humiliation is the scorn that fuels their escape.