Si pierdes un capítulo, pierdes toda la historia. (If you lose a chapter, you lose the whole story.)
A few months ago, I went down to Guadalajara, Mexico, for the christening of my good friend's daughter. After the ceremony in a spacious Catholic church, we went to a party to celebrate. We found out the party was no joke: it lasted over eight hours.
I had taken a red-eye, arriving the day before to explore the city a bit with another friend who came in. Asha took the next red-eye. By the time the party had just started, we were already feeling tired. I wasn't sure we were going to make it to the end of the party.
Had we left early, we would've missed so many chapters that made the day a whole story.
We would have missed the live band playing Brazilian songs to the delight of my friend's Brazilian family.
We would've missed my friend taking his mother's hand to dance joyfully together.
We would have missed the DJ throwing on YMCA, pulling all the Americans to the dance floor for a hilarious, universal dance.
We would have missed Asha throwing down some serious dance moves to the repeated cheering ("Ay! Ay! Ay!") and clapping of a Mexican auntie.
We would have missed the stolen nap on a couch upstairs from the party's venue.
We would missed the excited yet failed search for a cup of coffee.
We would have missed the tequila shots that brought together an international community, if only for a moment.
We would have missed a torrential downpour and a quiet conversation with a friend looking out over the flooding landscape.
We would have missed the slow migration of people leaving the party, observing the core of support for the two families.
We would have missed a heartwarming and light conversation with the daughter's maternal grandparents riding away from the party.
We would have missed a late-night feast of al pastor tacos with the those who came to support my friend.
In short, we would've missed it all. Si pierdes un capítulo, pierdes toda la historia.