Abe Observes

By Abe Villarreal

Every time I write about something, I think about that one thing that we all know about, but is rarely mentioned in a newspaper column. That one thing that connects us all together. The thing that is almost too ordinary to think could be worth becoming a story worth reading.

Like the guy named Sergio who sits with me a few times a week at the plaza. He walks with a cane, but he rarely uses it. It's more part of his look than his support. At home, he has seven dogs, and every time he sees a street dog that gives him affection, he tells me the same thing.

"I'd like to take him home, but I already have seven of them." I like it when he reminds me of how much he appreciates his dogs. More street dogs need owners like him.

By Abe Villarreal

I like it when old timers tell me about grocery stores that don't exist anymore. They always start their stories with something that sounds like a favorite memory. Something that sounds like they are holding on to an important moment in their lives.

Stories about the Pick and Save, and the Hinky Dinky. The Fresh and Easy, or the Piggly Wiggly. They all sound like places that were run by that one guy who was liked by everyone in town. Places where our grandparents had their first jobs as stockers in their teenage years. Businesses that allowed you to pay for items on time.

By Abe Villarreal

At the little cemetery in my town, outside the big city cemetery, gravestones are sinking into the ground. Names of loved ones are covered by shifting waves of dirt. What were once shiny memorial markers are now forgotten slabs of cracked concrete.

When time passes, we forget what we said we will never forget. Stones are engraved with messages like “always in our hearts” and “sisters forever.” Some graves, the older ones, don’t even have a headstone. Just a name and dates carved into a placeholder. Bodies that once belonged to someone are now nameless.

By Abe Villarreal

It's the time of the year to say thank you to something that is leaving and thank you to something that may be coming. Thank you for what we experienced, even if what we experienced at the time didn't feel like something for which to give thanks.

Thank you that we made it this far. It may be only another year, but it's another year, and some of the people we know didn't make it to today. Thank you that the new year is giving us a chance to say that we are starting a new year.

Thank you for new beginnings. They can happen at any time, but January feels like a good time to remind ourselves that we can start again. What we wanted to do last year, but didn't, we can do this year. At least, we hope we can.

By Abe Villarreal

When Nana Rafaela was still living, she would be the one to say the prayer before Thanksgiving Dinner, and Christmas Eve dinner, and any other time there was enough family to gather around for a special occasion.

We always looked to her because she was the matriarch of the family. The oldest person in the room is expected to do the prayer and other ceremonial acts of togetherness. When it was time to eat, everyone would gather in a big circle, holding hands, head bowed, and she would begin.

By Abe Villarreal

As we approach 2025, it’s easy to think of time in quarters. We’ve been living this twenty-first-century life for almost a quarter century. Some of you may be living in your third or fourth quarter of life. 2025. Seems like a year that will be remembered for something, for some time to come.

It will soon be 25 years since I graduated from high school. We were called the class of the millennium and there were great fears that we would all disappear when the clock struck midnight on December 31, 1999.

It was an exhilarating time. If you were my age, you wanted to see what would happen on that first day of the new century. If you were my parents' age, you saved up canned food, water jugs, and dried beans to survive in this brave new and unknown world.

By Abe Villarreal

It's the final weekend before the presidential election and the last thing I want to do is write about politics. So, I won't.

You will find politics on almost every other page of wherever you read this. Him vs her. Right vs left. You vs me. The country is ready to move on.

I think there should be more writing, and reading, that doesn't focus on something vs something else. Writing about people who learn something they never knew of before because they had an encounter with a person they thought would be uncomfortable to encounter.

By Abe Villarreal

Writing comes with its own highs and lows. Sometimes words flow like a river. Other times, the blank screen is your worst enemy. Then, there are times, when you receive an email or a nice, handwritten letter in the mail. It's from someone you don't know but feels that he or she knows you.

I don't know most of my readers. You are out there somewhere. Reading over breakfast. Newspapers in hand. Coffee too. Reading on your phone. You are readers and that's enough for me to know that you all are good people. Good enough to read. We need more of you.