Dreams

In Colombia, my grandfather was an accountant.

But he painted this. This isn't even the best one but it's the only one scanned into my collection of photos.

He painted and he sang. His old tapes bring to mind Ricky Ricardo, dapper and belting out a Spanish song at the Tropicana.

When my mom was young, he also ran a ranch.

In New York, he opened up a laundromat. And drove for a car service.

A painter, a singer. An artist. Trapped in the monotony of a day-to-day job.

It makes you think about sacrifice. But it doesn't seem to be the right word. Sacrifice implies a choice. I don't believe there was even a second of consideration given to following dreams.

It's interesting because in this day and age, we seem to be all about following dreams. Hopefully.

And this painting -- it really just makes me grateful that my grandparents and parents set a foundation upon which I could break out of jobs of necessity and try to follow my dreams.

-- Carolina Hidalgo