Two years after the exodus…
We are coming upon the second year anniversary since we left Juarez, Mexico. The situation has changed a lot since then; murders are down about eighty percent. I look at the news everyday and wonder about my old neighborhood and the wonderful people that lived close to me.
We now live in a small town just west of Fort Worth. We can leave things on the porch all night and they are still there in the morning. Our house doesn’t have bars on the windows. Haven’t heard about or seen any carjackings (in Juarez, three of my neighbors had been carjacked). No explosions, no executions, and my wife and I have been able to go dancing more than we had in ages.
Still, I miss Juarez. I miss my neighbors, even the guy that would always show up when I was making carne asada in the grill on the porch. My thoughts and prayers go out to Juarez, Mexico, where a piece of my soul still resides.
We now live in a small town just west of Fort Worth. We can leave things on the porch all night and they are still there in the morning. Our house doesn’t have bars on the windows. Haven’t heard about or seen any carjackings (in Juarez, three of my neighbors had been carjacked). No explosions, no executions, and my wife and I have been able to go dancing more than we had in ages.
Still, I miss Juarez. I miss my neighbors, even the guy that would always show up when I was making carne asada in the grill on the porch. My thoughts and prayers go out to Juarez, Mexico, where a piece of my soul still resides.
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