Sonajero dancers.

There is a family in Tuxpan, Jalisco, Mexico who I miss.  Laura and Pati and Cynthia.  And Luis, Luisito, Sergio, Sergiolito, Maribel, Ana, Oscar, Dorian, Mayra, and Avril.  Every once in a while I run across one of their Facebook posts and I surf through their photos.  I used to do this to see if I could spot my ex in their photos.  But he hasn't shown up for a long time now.  And I don't look for him much these days.  Now I'm marveling at how much the kids have grown up, how some things in the town never seem to change, how the sisters are aging.

Someone I don't know posted a video of the annual traditional dancers that take over the town three times around the beginning of the year.  When I lived there I took many photos of them.  Had I not been in such a messy mental state, I might have taken much more, much better photos.  But seeing this video brought me back to Tuxpan.  The cement buildings, the dusty streets, the plastic chairs.

And suddenly there was Laura, waving back at the camera.  She looks great.  And her husband Luis looks the same as he did 12 years ago when I was there.  Of course, Avril is a young woman now, not the child I knew.  I wonder if she'd remember me.  She was so young, I might not have made much of a lasting impression.

That time has had such a strong affect on my life.  For good and for bad.  Although the bad seems to have mostly faded with time.

Someday I might just find myself back there to visit.