Alejandro and me in the late 1990s. "It's important to have an accomplice. It is not indispensable, but it seems a good idea to have someone who also comes from that place. Eyes that knew the same war, that lost the same homeland." Alaíde Ventura.
Mom wrote about the need for two strong pillars to build a bridge. The sign ordered "Destroy the bridges".
"A husband can be a good accomplice. A son can also be an accomplice. The dog needs the gift of the gab. But the role of primary accomplice is reserved for the brother, the only true witness of the massacre." Alaíde Ventura
"...I began to see blood dripping from my brother's eye, the blood mixing with the tears and falling on his clothes."
"I hate it when the sound of bones breaking infiltrates my head when I think of our dog's death. If our family's fracture had produced a sound how would it be heard?"
"There is only one existing photo of mom as a child. It hurts not to be able to know what mom was like when she was 5 years old, 7 years old, 9 years old. To be able to make her human and vulnerable so I could forgive her more easily."
Alejandro and me as kids. The key to the house we used to live in and mom's old keychain.
"My family tree no longer has any living branches, the roots died or are in the process."
"Mom kept a red sweater for me to wear when it fit my size. It still doesn’t fit me and I know it’s not a matter of size."