Abuelita’s Kitchen

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Abuelita's Kitchen

Smells like the mixing of sugar, honey, milk.
Like Abuelita’s kitchen.
She wasn’t the greatest of cooks,
But I loved watching.
Her soft, fleshy hands,
Red polished fingernails, preparing meals.
Humming melodies, accompanied by a much too loud television show.
 
She never asked me for help.
I was too involved in watching to offer.
She use to call me “linda”, Said I was beautiful, and I felt it.
 
I eat bread pudding solely for the act of remembering her.

© Vanessa "Chica" Ferreira. Published by permission in Centro Voices on 24 April 2015.

 

Centro Voices (ISSN: 2379-3864).
The views expressed here are those of the author and not necessarily those of Centro Voices, the Center for Puerto Rican Studies or Hunter College, CUNY.