After nearly six years — years that passed in a blur — I have finally made my way back to Mexico, a place I’ve always considered my second home. It’s been a long time coming, and it feels good to say that after all these years, I’m back.
Before returning, small moments would catch me off guard and pull me straight back to Mexico. The smell of burnt diesel — I caught it once not long ago in Hamlet — instantly transported me to my childhood, hopping on local buses with my aunts to go to the shopping center, the same buses that once took my mom to work.
Seeing a glass Coke bottle does the same thing. I’m taken back to Mexico, where you crack open an ice-cold bottle with loved ones. My late aunt absolutely loved Coke. She once told her boyfriend he should have bought her a Coke instead of a bouquet of flowers. I hate to break it to soda lovers everywhere, but the best Coke really is the one from Mexico, served in a glass bottle.
Being back, so much has changed, yet so much has stayed the same. Some loved ones are no longer here, and their absence is deeply felt — especially when you notice the empty spaces at the dinner table. I remember sitting on the plane and texting my mom that this return felt bittersweet, shaped by how much loss has filled the past six years.
Still, some things remain exactly as I remember them. My grandma’s house, for example, looks nearly untouched by time. She still has the same Christmas tree and ornaments she’s had since I was little, and seeing them again felt like stepping into a memory I never wanted to lose.
Being back also has a way of making me forget, at times, that I’m a grown adult with responsibilities. That tends to happen when you’re having the time of your life. The last time I was here, I was still in college, when responsibilities felt lighter and the future less demanding.
Getting to eat authentic Mexican food again has been everything. There’s nothing quite like my grandma’s cooking or food from local vendors who prepare everything with care and heart. Ironically, the food I’ve missed most over the past six years is the sushi. It’s far from traditional — fried, hand-breaded and topped with just about anything, from steak to chicken — but somehow, it’s impossible to resist.
It’s been special seeing most of my family again and creating new memories to hold onto. Getting all of my cousins under one roof feels nearly impossible these days, since everyone always has something going on. But when we do come together, it’s with more appreciation, tighter hugs and glassy eyes. Time can be a thief, and like the Aerosmith song says, I don’t want to miss a thing. Living far away means I’ve missed important moments, but I try to keep up however I can — a quick FaceTime call never hurt anyone.
Mexico — Sonora, to be exact — has been good to me. Every visit reminds me that home isn’t just a place, but a feeling you carry long after you leave. And while I may be saying goodbye for now, I know I’ll be back.