Gabe and I had a 2 am conversation this morning. His friend, John, had just come back from Colombia after given the opportunity to travel to Colombia. John told Gabe that he is lucky that he hasn’t left anything behind in Mexico. He, on the other hand, reunited with his family, friends and the childhood smells of Medellin. John cried his entire plane ride back to NYC like the child he was 15 years ago.
Gabe cried too. He mourned leaving behind his childhood friends, the shack he called home and the father he didn’t know well. He realized that everything he loved was around him, here in NYC and that going back would be impossible.
He asked me, what do I have left in Mexico. His childhood home was probably torn down or non existent. The only family he had was his mother, step father and me, he told me.