Reading and Remembering – Mid April 2025

I haven’t set foot in a Spanish language class since 1995. And yet, when I read Julia Alvarez’s book The Cemetery of Untold Stories, the language came back to me in a rush. My tongue sticks when I try and speak new Spanish sentences out among the public, but repeating what I read? No problem. My brain shifts to some long-forgotten gear and I know (mostly) what is being written.

Hola! Like an old friend, my language skill greets me. Yes, I remember that word. And the next. And the next. Until I read one that is new.

Cuentame.

Tell me a story.

The word is melodious to me. I repeat it over and over in the weeks after I read the book. I confess, I had never read much by Latinx American writers. Not because I wasn’t interested, but only because I hadn’t made my way to them. This year I made a commitment to read more, but with my eye sight not how it used to be, large print books are my new favority thing. The local library has a limited, but decent asortment. No more headaches for me.

Sometimes I wish I had kept up my Spanish. I have two cousins that are far more fluent than me. A distant cousin who is half Mexican and fluent. Maybe at one time, I was okay. Now, I’m picking at words and grateful for Google translate. Lord help me if I ever get lost in a Spanish language country.

Still, I delight in the memories when I read Ms. Alvarez’s work. My Puerto Rican Spanish teacher from high school would be proud. I still remember basic sentences and words. I just had to wake them up from their slumber.

Es verdad?

Yes, it is the truth. At least the truth as I know it. There has been no trauma to my mind. No wounds. No damage. I just have long forgotten neuropathways that haven’t been fired in a while.

There is beauty in English too. My job has a lot of medical jargon in each report. I find myself enjoying learning words like dehisced, sequela, and neurostimulation.

Always useful for a science fiction writer.

The power of reading and words always amazes me. I’ve never been to the Dominican Republic, but now I feel like I’ve seen a piece of it. Somehow, this book reminded me of a time long ago when I knew foreign words as easily as my own language. There’s a joy in that. A delight that caught me off guard. That is the power of reading and books, of learning about different things.

The experience cannot be replaced.