as we sat down for our usual dinner comprising of tacos and homemade salsa, the candles flickered, and then the flies began to appear.

like a battle, i swatted them away, while my attention shifted from the conversation to the flies,

i knew that for some odd reason the conversation would change.

my mother began to get teary eyed,

"we'll never know." she said,

"and it's sad, she just might not make it." and then a stare began to exist on her face,

her eyes turned rosy red, and tears started to form,

i wanted to get a cup and start collecting them.

i wanted to reach across the table and give her a hug, the kind of hug that would let her rest her chin upon my shoulder as her tears rolled down onto my shirt.

i lost my appetite.

our eyes rested not on one another, but we all held blank stares,

a peered over at my mom,

a frightening came as rapid as the rain clouds do.

in my head, i depicted the memory of everyone gathered around in a dimly lit room,

our champagne glasses filled to the top, our smiles from ear to ear, our eyes all fixated on our grandmother.

everyone gathered around.

and that's the way i want it to stay, for a long while