I am the Bridge

This first appeared in East Side Magazine, April/May/June 2022 Ome issue

I am the bridge

Between my past

and our future

Between the old world

and the new

Between my abuelita’s hornito

that heated her

tortillas de trigo that she 

made between her weathered

hands to sell around town

to keep the many mouths 

of her familia fed in El Alamo

after my abuelo was killed; 

and my child’s bass lessons, swift

fingers plucking out the sounds

of their heart, the

joy of exploring the Californian 

desert together, unhindered,

disconnected from the

technology that distracts us

while connected

to the ancestor’s triumphs 

and heartache through

our own.

I am the bridge 

Between the bravery

of an abuela I never

met, who came here to 

work, to help support 

her family back in Mexico, 

while my abuelo

struggled to keep the family

together, fed and comforted

while their mamá, with her 

hands, calloused from a 

life as a seamstress

provided for them from 

El Norte

And the joy

on my small niece’s 

face as she rides her

bike along the Guadalupe

under the warmth of the sun

alongside her sissy and dad

her dark hair waving

behind her.

I am the bridge

Between my mother’s 

sacrifice, her childhood left 

behind to support and 

forge a futuro for us all

through endless years of work

operating the heavy 

machines that would

give birth to Silicon Valley, and

my father’s sweat and tears

as he washed cars in the heat,

Striking out and stepping up,

as his own jefe en la pulga

and my child’s dreams.