My Life

Jose, Guito, Kevin, Javier, Chamo and Yoed.

I was the youngest of 7 grandkids, and the only girl of the family. I am also, an only child. So these guys were/are my older brothers and everything I ever looked up to in life and strive to be like. The three older ones always treated me like a princess and looked after me, their little brothers were always hiding from me and my dolls. They taught me how to ride bike and how to play basketball under our mango tree in the yard. They were my introduction to music and set a standard to be followed in school, as they were all always honor students.

My first memory of Guito? Laying in his bed looking at his Iron Maiden posters while he always had them or Metallica blasting at full volume. I remember hot afternoons of Street Fighter tournaments all crammed in my uncle Hector's living room. Then they went through the cooking out phase and camping phase, on the little hill beside my uncle Felix's house. I always hung around them, sort of unwanted, as little girls who pester older boys tend to be. I can still picture my cousin Guito's long curly hair and a piece of string he used to always have tied to his ankle. The first day of school I got hit by a tennis ball on my neck and it knocked me on my butt. Two of my cousins were playing in the yard at school, and while one of them (Kevin) laughed at me until he had no breath left in his lungs...my other cousin Chamo ran over to me and picked me up, sort of laughing but mostly concerned. He rubbed the spot on my neck that hurt and dusted off my skirt, telling me to be careful when the boys were playing and to sit on the benches.

Javier used to come over every afternoon after school to play Monopoly with me, and most of the time the others would also follow...but he never failed me. He also taught me how to make a top spin with a piece of string, and how to shoot marbles properly. Jose was the quiet one, sort of, and he always took me around for drives in his first car - a little white Hyundai hatchback. Yoed, well he was the smart nerd and pretty much I just remember him helping me with science projects at school. Kevin...well Kevin is the source of all my crying as a little kid. If something of mine had to be made fun of or broken, it was his job. But it was a phase, as always, and towards the end of my being in PR he was nice to me. I still feel there's some things that were left unsaid between he and I, but there's no hard feelings left. Except my Rainbow Brite doll he decapitated, he owes me that one.

So a few weeks ago, my cousin Guito who lives in Oklahoma flew to Puerto Rico for a vacation, and they all gathered at my grandma's house like old times. Everyone. I wasn't there. They were remembering old pranks, jokes, moments and my aunt texted me to say: "The boys are all here, and they said too bad you aren't". My heart turned into a prune. We are all now at an age that we can share better, where ignorant kid pranks are put aside and we can enjoy each other far more. They had the chance to meet as adults, after going through life's turns and heartbreaks, and bond closely like we all used to. I wasn't there. So there, up there, is the picture of what my cousins look like now. They were all there in my grandmother's front yard, where we all used to sit on a pile of cement bricks and eat frozen treats in the summer. Where we used to stand when playing catch and where my grandmother would send us all, one by one, to grab some herbs or leaves when she was cooking.

I wasn't there. The one time I could've felt like I finally belonged in their midst. I miss you, a lot, guys.