1I just realized something the other day.
Mi madre thinks that I’m going to hell.
After I just wrote that, it made me stop and look at my unlit candles. Of the about 15 on my windowsill, three of them have been given to me by mi madre. At first, I thought that she was just helping me decorate my room, but now I know that she was giving me a hint.
It’s a strange feeling to have the woman who brought you into this world think that you are going to be spending your afterlife in eternal damnation.
I used to think that I was her favorite child. Turns out, she just wants to spend as much time as she can with me now, because she won’t be able to hang out with me later. She’ll make it up to my siblings in heaven.
Me? Bueno, I’ll just be down there in hell, listening to bag pipes and sipping apple martinis with Maradona. That’s hell to me. Bag pipes, apple-tini’s and Maradona.
I asked mi madre the other day if she thought that I was going to hell.
“You still have time to change your ways.”
Now, I’m really not a bad person. I’m not. Sure, I don’t go to church. I don’t cross myself when passing by a church. I sometimes use the Lord’s name in vain. I eat meat on Fridays. I lust. Big time.
But, I help old women with their grocery bags. I say a silent prayer of thanks when something good happens to me. I buy nothing from the country of Argentina. I try to smile as much as I can. I light candles. Lots of them. I just, don’t like following rules when it comes to Dios. Is that bad?
I believe in God. Very much. God is around me all day long. And not because I’m Guatemalan. I think he’s around all people, everyone, regardless of race and religion. And while God may keep a little distance, he’s even around Argentineans. Again, he keeps his distance.
With mi madre, I once told her that I wasn’t sure if the Catholic way was my way. That all these rules and regulations fit my way of thinking.
In truth, I just believe in God. Dios.
Mi madre loves me, very much, I am her baby boy. But at the end of the day, I’ll still risk the bag pipes.
But… Do me a favor. The next time you’re at the grocery store in the Hispanic section, buy a religious candle. Light one for the saving of my soul. Just in case…