I remember driving across the border with my family. Cherished family memories of playing in the beach in Rosarito.
The food we ate. The paletas and fresh fruits. The delicious seafood. The first time I learned I liked shrimp and lobster.
I can remember the condo we stayed in. Playing board games and card games on the patio enjoying the ocean breeze.
It was a time when I remember having what is now known as “quality” time as a family.
It was the best way of being connected to Mexico and immersed in a Spanish environment. There is no question that those trips helped me retain the language.
It was something I wanted to continue as a mom. I was fortunate to be able to take my older girls to Mexico a few years ago. We loved it. It was a tangible way to teach them about our culture.
He was a young, kind and vibrant person. His family is completely heartbroken. The media has speculated all kinds of motives. But the truth is, he was an American living in Mexico driving to work as he did every day.
And the killer walked right up to him, riddled the vehicle with bullets and ran away. Surrounded by other cars. And, you would think, some law enforcement. But the killer got away onfoot.
I pray for an end to the violence in Mexico. For peace. I pray for my extended family and yours.
Rest in peace, dear primo.