The Japanese technique of repairing broken pottery with seams of gold is named Kintsugi.  This work is done using a resin to join the broken pieces; afterward, this resin is sprinkled with gold.  Preserving the history of the piece and lending it new character.

(Picture property of Lakeside Pottery)                                                   

estas arrugas

detallando mi vida 
kintsugi oro

like kintsugi gold

narrating my life story

these facial wrinkles

We took Matthew and Isabella to a new hamburger restaurant here in Hesperia. Another family sat next to us. They too appear to be grandparents with two teen boys. When we finished eating Matthew hugged me and kissed me on the forehead; with emotion I said in a whisper 'I know you are growing up and soon you'll detach more and more from me, and that is okay. But , please never forget all the wonderful times we have shared, all of our adventures'. Even before I finished talking he was saying 'How could I forget Guga, I love you, I could never forget all you have done for me' he kissed me again. We hugged...

As we were walking out, the lady sitting next to us called me, and said, 'What a wonderful boy! Is he your son?' I answered 'Grandson', she and her husband couldn't stop smiling at me in wonder, she said 'Oh, how wonderful! He seems to be such a caring, loving young man. Congratulations!' and turning to her own grandson, she kidded, 'Why can't you be like that?' They all smiled big. I felt realized. 

your amazing love

touches my heart delights me

beloved grandson



(c)martamelendez.2013

playful spring breeze
long brushed clouds sliding by
leaves glistening green

This morning, with a little trepidation, I visited my primary doctor. It was earlier than nine in the morning; I waited about ten minutes for him to come into the room. Meanwhile, I watched the world from that third floor window. Some kind of peace permeated the moment. I could see the parking lot, and the street where tall cottonwood trees softly swayed in the morning breeze. A little farther away Interstate 15 was in full morning business. Cars were traveling north and south, big trucks hauling containers with some sort of unknown cargo, motorcycles, and the like. They all moved at a good safe clip, perhaps seventy miles an hour, like an organized dance, everyone respecting everyone else’s space it was almost beautiful. Since I was behind glass I could not hear the sounds from below, but I could see the beauty of the morning sun shining on the brand new leaves, and those amazing clouds almost like a soft knitted blanket, extending from south to north. That spring breeze softly swaying the new leaves. At that moment I realized that no matter what the doctor had to say, I would be fine.

(c)martamelendez.2013