October 11th
Up and out for a walk around 7:30. The sun was shining, and it was warmer than the past few days. The streets were unusually quiet—everyone seemed to be taking full advantage of the long weekend for the Day of Respect for Cultural Diversity, and the only noise was the birds singing their hearts out in the park. It felt like the perfect day to pick up a newspaper and practice some Spanish. I pictured myself flipping through the pages either sitting at a park bench or a cozy café, thinking of my grandpa.
So, I bought a newspaper from a stand down the street and sat down on a park bench to read. There was an article about Hurricane Milton, which had just hit southern Florida. It covered the heavy damage, the challenges locals were facing, and the ripple effects on Argentinian tourists stranded by the storm and expats now living in florida whose lives were upended.
After skimming the first few pages, I figured Mom might be going on her morning walk in Omaha around the same time. I shot her a text, and next thing I knew, we were on FaceTime, walking and chatting together—almost like we do back home. Forty minutes later, she was nearing our family home, and we’d managed to talk about as much as we usually do on our walks. We said our goodbyes, exchanging “love ya,” and going our separate ways to start our days.
