Well, shoot.

Here’s a random fact about myself I’d like to share: I take screenshots like none other.

(Be careful what you text me or share on social media. I might take a screenshot and use it against you in the future…

Jk jk 😂)

I mostly take shots of conversations that would otherwise get lost in the matrix of posts, updates, tweets, comments, replies, texts, etc., and in the muddled mess that becomes of my brain at times.

I am a sentimental person, I do not want to forget some things. I want to treasure them instead. Understandable, right?

These are two from this week that I want to keep forever:

Screenshot_2017-04-19-20-14-35-1

My Dad’s nickname is Caracol, which is Spanish for “snail”. Isn’t he precious?

First, for simply checking in on me for no particular reason. There is nothing happening in my life that would suggest that I am not okay. No, he just asked because that’s what parents should do for their kids, regardless of how old and stable they may be. It’s love, plain and simple.

Then, his emoji use. Cute cute cute! He has never included emojis in his messages to me before, ever. He certainly surprised me with this. I am still smiling about it!

Next:

Screenshot_2017-04-23-10-22-21-1

Those are comments made in response to a photo I posted yesterday while I was at the March for Science.

The first comment is from a cousin in Mexico. The third, from another cousin in Mexico. Both are teachers and knowledgeable women. Both are deeply concerned about matters in their own country, but now monitor what unfolds in this one as well because that is how preposterous times have become. Don’t get me started. Let me not get started.

The second comment is from my lovely Mom. As expected, she is telling me to keep fighting. What else?

I often use the hashtag #mamaraisedahellraiser in posts I make relating to my activism. It’s the truth. Mom made me believe the world needed me and that I can make it suck less. She encouraged me to be creative, to develop ideas, to let my mind wander. And she always ALWAYS insisted that I was brilliant and talented.

Now, I am in my thirties, and she remains my cheerleader. She continues to root for me, to offer her solid support, she is still that Mom sitting in auditoriums all day on Saturdays waiting for scores from whatever math and science competition I participated in. She is proud and expresses it every opportunity she gets.

That’s what parents should do for their kids, regardless of how old and confident they may be. That’s love, plain and simple.

Yup. I am keeping these demonstrations of love forever. ❤

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