grandmothers

I wake up to four missed calls from my father. Frantic texts from my out of the country mother. My last living grandmother died. Peacefully in her sleep. At her…

I turn into the street, first house at the corner, I see the long house and the large pillar that holds the front porch. I pull into the curved driveway…

“¿Qué estás haciendo abuelita?” “¿Puedo ayudar?” “¿Enséñame por favor?” This was our ritual, rites performed under a canopy of smoke and dust below the splendor of cerulean Mexican skies. The…