Vallejo Nocturno 2016 - The Walk to Buy Bread and Avoid the Traffic
As the medicine took hold each morning we had an hour of purposeful leisure in preparation for that day's breakfast.This involved a walk down towards the water where bread was being baked and where the fruit cart stood decked in an array of mangoes and papayas and bananas. The trick was to take a different way avoiding the same streets and weaving past the traffic of desperate work goers trying to find a way around the bottle necked city streets. With the sun accompanying us we set off on our walk believing that our normal mundane life was far away on hold in a snow covered northern city and we were not fully aware in those days that an end is always nearby. Several years ago this walk was done while my mother lay in her bed delicately being tended to by two dutiful nurses back in the apartment I had just left. In a bright room full of windows my mother after 94 years of commanding freedom was confined to a bed and a reclining chair.Though close to death I couldn't see past her daily struggles and my explanations of plot lines of both simple and complex French movies we saw religiously every night. We had inverted our positions. I was now the explainer and storyteller all in one. I was the one in charge of taking the lead and providing the daily drama such as the tragedy of spectators at local soccer stadium being thrown by the competition's fans to their painful demise down below. We couldn't believe it but the television and magazines which I read to her in the late mornings said it was true with photographs of the ledge where the young man had been pushed over circled in red. Where were the perpetrators of this crime? All this accompanied by a faint Chopin Nocturne from the CDs I had brought for her ears.