We sit on the broken down couches in our living room
Abuela is obsessed with watching old VHS tapes our uncle sent from Mexico
in the video our uncle who passed away from cancer 2 years ago
films the dirt roads of our old town
he films old houses, schools, the church and the hospital
“That’s where you were born,” Abuela says
I have no memory of this place. I have no memory of the people in the video that say they miss me. I don’t know who they are.
“Do you remember them?” my Abuela asks.
“I don’t,” I reply.
something happens to the body when its uprooted from its home
it gets this constant nostalgia of wanting to return
and thou we have seen these videos a million times
in them Abuela finds peace in knowing nothing seems to have changed
we stare into the screen imagining what it would be like to be free
"Tu ya eres Americano," she says.
But these days I do not feel American at all.
