Dear Readers (mostly just Dan),

I am not dead. Travelled through the New Mexican desert today. Going to stuff my face tomorrow but not with turkey; we're having menudo. If you've never had menudo you're missing out but if I told you what's in it you'd never try it. It's not traditional I know but really what is anymore?

It seems that everytime I come home another tradition has faded away with nothing to replace it. I keep thinking that one day I'm going to come home and it will be like I remember it. Everyone will have their health and we'll fill my Abuelos' house with laughter again. Instead, each time I return someone else is sick, incarcerated, addicted, afflicted, or dead. People are lost, traditions are gone, buildings fall apart, memories fade.

I'm homesick for a place that doesn't exist.