Talked to ma about the corpses she’s seen. Her pop had his skull crushed when his truck went off a cliff. Her sister drowned in a river. Alfredo—some distant cousin—died a few years back. His body was more of a pale serene. He kept to himself mostly. Some kind of private battle with alcoholism. She had to explain that this is why none of us knew him. Most recently it was her uncle Luis. My grandmother’s brother. He was done in just shy of eighty by a malignant tumor in the throat. She won’t be going in for a look at the body. Just the prayers, she says. I asked her about the closure of it. She said she understands how some people would need that.

I can more than hold down my liquor, but God. It’s terrible, like smoking. One of those things that just sinks in with time and a little effort. I’d rather have some pancakes.