Honor To A Loved One
“Let all that you do be done in love.”- 1 Corinthians 16:14
In my journey to know what I wanted to write about for my second blog, I found a song that reminded me of my grandmother (her name was Silvia). I had difficulty gathering memories but finally stumbled upon one that touched my heart. My grandmother was like one of those Mexican grandmothers that appear in Telenovelas; she indeed was one of a kind. Originally from Michoacan, my grandmother was a great cook and would cook tremendous and delicious meals for us all. My favorite day of the week growing up with her were Saturdays; they were special to me because it was the day of the week when we had lots of chores to do, but it was also when I got to spend more time with her and learn from her. On Saturday mornings, I would wake up precisely at 8 o'clock; the first thing my ears heard was the old classic Mexican songs (La Puerta Negra or Pedro Infante songs) she would play on her old grey record player that she kept by the stove. I would rush to the kitchen to see her, and she would be singing along to her songs while sweeping the floor; she would have already cleaned the kitchen and was drinking her dark coffee by then (she didn't even put sugar in it) My love for dancing and old Mexican music comes from her. After my sister woke up, we would get ready for the first chore we had to do, which was to go to the "molino" or the corn mill place; we would get the Maiz that was left in a bucket with calcium hydroxide, a process called "nixtamalización"; To make us feel included she would put some of that corn in tiny red buckets "cubetas" (buckets) so that my sister and I could help; I admired my grandma her physical strength as she would carry that heavy bucket in one of her shoulders, to imitate her, I would do the same. At the "Molino" (corn mill place), I watched as she hands-on withdrew the corn dough. Once at home, she would warm her "comal" (a pan for tortillas), and my sister and I helped her make little dough balls for the tortillas. My favorite part was when she made me salt or sugar tacos from the tortillas fresh out of the "comal." After she was done with the Tortillas, we would all sit down to eat and watch "AAA luchas libres" or "Senora Casos de La Vida Real."
Once again, she would put her songs on her gray record player, put a "Mandil" on (apron), and once again start cleaning while my sister and I swept the backyard with a straw broom. There is a saying in Spanish that goes, "Los abuelos que crían a sus nietos dejan huellas en sus almas." (translation). "Grandparents who raise their grandchildren leave a trace on their souls." she definitely did. Although there were rocky times during the time I lived with her, the memories I have of her are special and dear to my heart, which is why I wrote a blog to honor her as she taught me the joy of the little moments as well as to make the most of every opportunity.
