Carcha

Home

The true value of things appears to come with perspective, time, and distance. Today, I feel more that even than I have gained some perspective, and if you allow me to give something meaningful already to you, dear reader, since I’m just a little more nostalgic than usual, it’s that you should value what you have around you now.

It took me a couple of years and thousands of kilometers to realize how much I love small things, for example, going to do the groceries with my sister. Or how nice it was to meet my same group of friends in a house, and just speak and laugh about how much we bullied each other in the past. I remember the sunset and sunrise from my window, the sounds of the morning from bed, the silence of the apartment when no one else was around, and the colors of the landscape and the trees when I drove from the city to my hometown.

Have you ever valued that you can recall all the music that is playing in the background on the street? Or that the weather is the same as it was last year in this season? Even better; that a familiar face that you have not seen in a month would appear for a quick ‘Hola!’ in the mall on a Sunday afternoon?

With time, life has found another way, of course; new laughs, friends, dishes of food, and new routines that fill the every-day-life. But memories of the past remain, memories of that previous life that cannot be revived anymore. A phrase that I reflect on when I think about this goes like:

"A man who had lived only one day could easily live for a hundred years in prison".

And I can feel it. There have been some days when I just remember that other me, that person who had a different life, that person who was in a different place, that person who is not me anymore. I can recall some of his feelings and some of his fears, but we value things differently and don’t share the same perspective of life at all. And I don’t know which balance is better, you know? To forget and embrace, or to recall and revive.

All of this mental dump is actually pretty simple; it’s Sunday night, and I miss Carcha.