A Birthday Love Note


Today, my husband Picasso turns 40. There was a time in his life that he thought he wouldn’t make it to 30.

So today, on some levels, is still a lovely surprise, 10 years later.

There was also the time where he made peace with the fact that he was never going to see the Untied States again.

Specifically, New York City. Over the years, deep in his bones, he began the process of accepting what was then his truth – strolling down the streets of Manhattan was only possible in his mind and with Googlemaps.

Due to a travel opportunity, Picasso was in New York City yesterday for a few hours, en route to a new and temporary adventure.

I was not with him when he walked down New York City’s streets for the first time in 13 years.

But if we had been in Manhattan together, the photo above is how would have felt. We took that photo in Oakland last week.

People, don’t lose hope. Don’t ever fucking give up on hope.


10 thoughts on “A Birthday Love Note

  1. You are such an encouragement to me and I’m sure to other families out there. I love that instead of disappearing once your case was resolved, you stick around to give us a glimpse of what could be. You two look so happy, felicidades!


  2. Losing hope is difficult not to do. I know it’s all that we have left. But it’s the hardest thing in the world to stay positive, all I can think of is my innocent children 6 and 3 years old who woke up one day to find their daddy gone. And I see the look of confusion in their eyes when all they can do is talk to him on the phone and ask him when he’s coming home. I try to hold back the tears. The reality is that he will never be allowed back to this great country that he called home his entire 27 years. And that saddens me but makes me very upset at the same time that these injustices are allowed to occur in this “great country” who values ” keeping families together” such bullshit.


    1. Sonia, I’m so sorry! I thought that I had replied to your message when I posted it. I want to thank you for sharing part of your story here. And over the course of the 12 yeats since my husband was deported that I looked at myself in the mirror and felt completely hopeless and helpless about the situation. And your children asking about their father just cracks my heart in two. I feel that it is the responsibility of people like myself to keep fighting for your family. We will keep fighting, because we nrver forget. Big Hug, Giselle


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