Looking for Alaska

I love reading things that move me. Wether it is an article that makes me angry, a poem that makes me smile or in this case, a book that makes me cry and smile at the same time. Looking for Alaska is not my first read from John Green, his book The Fault In Our Stars left me weeping a few months ago.

After finishing Looking for Alaska, I felt refreshed. Like if I had understood a little bit of what we all go through in life and how terrible things can happen but that doesn’t make life stop. There’s something refreshing about cold hard truths that can become positive thoughts, a sort of freedom from knowing life is not all sweet and perfect but that it’s ok.

Here are my amateur designs sharing my favorite quotes from the book.



“¡Papi, lo logramos!” / “Dad, we made it!”

These words were the first words my dad heard when he woke up from surgery on a day like today, eight years ago.

It is impossible to reduce to one post all of the events leading up to that day and everything else that followed, but one thing I can say is that I couldn’t feel more grateful today. It’s easy to take things for granted; life is one of those things. We think we are indestructible and that no one can knock us down, then life happens and our body starts to fail.

Organ donation had never been something that I really thought about. When I got my driver’s license I was afraid of registering as an organ donor because I thought that if I had an accident it would affect my treatment (MYTH). Then my dad was told that in order to save his life he would need a new liver and everything changed. I think about this every single time people say they need a new liver because they drank so much over the weekend.

Truth is, my dad owes his life to a stranger in Florida who passed away and donated his liver. Whether it was that person’s choice or his family’s, we don’t know. Still, life is life and I’m grateful.

Life is weird and it changes its course as it pleases, without making announcements or informing threats. I’ve been grateful to have my dad with me for eight “extra” years and I can only hope that the number keeps increasing.

Needless to say, I’m now a registered organ donor.

Think about it.

To learn more about organ donation, click here.

Currently, more than 120,000 men, women and children are awaiting organ transplants in the United States. 

What are nineteen years?

You don’t remember a lot when you are little, but for some reason your mind captures random bits of pieces to preserve almost intact. It’s not usually remarkable images, but simple daily smiles.

Nineteen years ago, I remember being taken to my “Titi Gladys” house for some unexpected play time. I don’t remember the worried look in my parents’ eyes or the tears hidden in everyone’s faces, because when you are four years old you don’t notice the bad things that much.

My mother’s brother, my dearest uncle, passed away 19 years ago in a car accident. Hard to say how much a four-year-old girl can remember, it makes me even a little angry that memories rely so much on age. I wish I had more memories with him, but I’m left with bits and pieces of an unfinished puzzle, a little girl too young to mourn.

Then just like that, I see myself quietly opening his bedroom door and jumping playfully to wake him up.

Rest in peace tío, I love you.