Grandma & Me Sunbathing

Am back from a two week visit to my grandma in Michoacán, Mexico.  I hadn’t been back to the town that gave me life and nurtured me until the age of seven- for over sixteen-years.  Usually my grandma would come visit us in California, but recently she took a bad fall and I believe her traveling days are over – so it was my turn to visit.  I remembered my pueblo bigger than it is even though it has grown quite a bit since I last was there.  In my day, our house served dual purposes: our living quarters and a large, back corral where we kept our animals.  As I toured my old home my memories seemed bigger than the tiny house that housed me throughout infancy.  I felt a bit claustrophobic which conflicted with the wonderful memories that I have of my farmhouse.  I think it’s because the town has grown, we used to be the edge of town –  “la orilla” walking outside was like walking into a huge forest of a yard.  Now nature has been pushed out and our house got sucked into the expansion of the pueblo- placing us in the middle away from the beginning of the “cerro.” 

With all the changes, it was comforting that my grandma’s house remained better than I remembered.  One morning she told me how she and grandpa purchased the house one piece at a time.  It was just one room and each year if the crop did well, they added another room- until it became the four-bedroom home that stands today.  Grandma is such a great storyteller that I could see her pride as each room was added to her humble home.  “At first we didn’t have a whole lot of money, and I always loved flowers so I would go to the forest and bring wild flowers to plant in the garden,” she added, “I knew which grew best each season so I would pick different types depending on the season.”  The house is sectioned in a manner that leaves a large middle area exposed to nature, here she spends most of her days surrounded by flowers that from the moment she made the house her home she’s cultivated.  All sorts of colorful blooms fill her days.  It was also in this tiny paradise that I spent most of my days with her.

After the first week, I sprained my ankle on a step outside grandma’s bedroom door and on doctor’s orders I was forced to rest.  Though I thought that the immobility would hinder the enjoyment of my trip- it forced me to slow down and find pleasure as an invalid.  Next to grandma’s wheelchair I would too be parked with my foot set up high on a cushion each day and every day time travel so fast as the two of us enjoyed her blooming paradise.  We had time to chat, to lunch, to be together in silence, to pray the rosary, to welcome visitors, to laugh and just enjoy each other.  I had intentions of visiting more surrounding towns, but God had other plans – He used my injury to allow my grandma and I to hangout way more than we would have- had I use of both of my feet.  And while I will most likely get more opportunities to travel to places that will remain there- those days with my grandma were the true gift.