Valley of Tears
ongoing
The prayer box lives on the living room table in the house of my grandparents.
Zedric plays outside my brother's home in Harlingen, TX.
Two crucifixes dangle from the rearview mirror of my 2006 Toyota Corolla shared with my mother.
My Grandfather poses in his recliner, natural light seeps in from his window as he watches old Spanish cartoons.
Page from Torres family scrapbook—scenes outside of St. Anthony's Church in Harlingen, TX and my mother as a child.
The dresses of Soccoro Torres hang to dry on a clothesline in her backyard.
My brother, Michael Decilos leaning over his dining room table. His tattoo—a memoriam to his late son Matthias Decilos. Crosses and the phrase “Let go let God” decorate his skin.
Two great-grandchildren of Mary O. Torres at her burial at Ashland Cemetery in Harlingen, TX.
A neighborhood cat stands alone outside my grandparents' old home.
A child stands looking at her mother, alone, in Nuevo Progresso Tamaulipas, Mexico.
A baby Jesus figure lies surrounded by figures of saints and angels sold in a Mexican store in Tamaulipas, MX.
A Triptych Sarah Torres from Torres family scrapbook
Slavador Torres carrying his penuts to the car.
A statue of Jesus reaches his palm out in front of the Sacred Heart Catholic Church in San Benito, Texas that sits feet away from the unfinished border wall.
Soccoro Torres at age 16 surrounded by her classmates.
The alter of Socorro Torres.
My grandfather Salvador Torres greeting me outside his Harlingen home.
The virgen and two crosses dangling in my 2006 Toyota Corolla.
Page from Torres family scrapbook—my mother and father sit in the right corner.
The Rio Grande river separating the US and Mexico on a calm November day.
My mothers side of the bed.
Awaiting entrance to the United States.
Scissors on my Grandma's prayer bench.
Soccorro and Salvador Torres at thier wedding.
Salvador and Socorros fridge filled with photos of thier grandchildren.
Page from Torres family scrapbook—my great-grandmother and family friends from Aramberri, MX.
Ballons are released at the gravesite of my late nephew Mattias Asher Decilos on his second birthday.
My Grandfather clutches his cane.
La Virgencita, wrapped and stamped for sale in a store in Tamulipas, MX.
Page from Torres family scrapbook—Socorro Torres' Graduation and baby Ralph Torres.
A witherd bouquet sitting between the graves of my grandmother Mary Torres and my nephew Matias Asher Decilos.
The skull of a longhorn sits on the floor of a vendor in Nuevo Progreso.
Grandama Coco's breakfast accompanied by her saint pill tin.
Page from Torres family scrapbook.
Christ hung from the wall in my grandparents bedroom.
The bumper of my grandfather, Salvadors car.
The Rio Grande is its own mystery, a body carved from the tears of the lost souls that remain in its waters. In its stream connecting the two countries flows culture, language, religion, and loss. The Valley of Tears acts as an allegorical place of suffering that leads to brighter pastures through penance,
To you do we send up our sighs,
mourning and weeping in this Valley of Tears.
Growing up in the faith I struggled to navigate my sexuality and the generational Catholicism passed down in my family—sparking feelings of loneliness sitting with my religious and emotional turmoil, a struggle passed down from my Grandmother.
Turn then, most gracious advocate,
your eyes of mercy toward us,
Valley of Tears is an ode to my lineage, my home in the valley, and my familial faith—yet, it recons the personal turmoil of identity, loss, devastation, and feelings of loneliness and isolation. This work acts as a prayer, bound by the intersecting faith, culture, and lineage on both sides of the border, and the intersection they find in me.
and after this exile
show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb,
Jesus.