Paul E. Martín

05/30/2026

New Mexico sky.

05/22/2026

How did I go this many years with reading Conrad?

04/25/2026

The struggle is real.

04/03/2026

Friends arrived.

03/20/2026

Today is Mom’s birthday, but her body is no longer here. She died in 2021.

People always talk about how their “spirit is still here,” whatever that means. Maybe it’s just the memories stuck somewhere in the carbon in our skulls and there is no spirit.

I’m a bit pessimistic today. Because I don’t know how I deserve to grieve when I speak all week with mothers who lost their children, who in every case were way too young to die.

Today at a hearing I saw my friend Debbie from New Jersey, who lost not one, but two of her children to fentanyl—her son and her daughter.

If you’re a parent, imagine.

Mom was—well, look at her. Even after she had that sudden and completely and unexpected stroke in 2015, she lit up. every time she saw me. The damaged brain couldn’t hold back her love.

Most of the time I don’t smile much when I think about her because I can never express in words just how much she loved me.

And that hurts.

03/19/2026

The complexity of the fentanyl crisis must include how the cartels have been armed with hundreds of thousands of guns purchased in the US and smuggled in New Mexico.

03/18/2026

30 seconds to get a letter to your Senator and House member. Visit website now.

unitedagainstfentanyl.org

02/27/2026