Posts tagged childhood
Secrets for My Abuelita

For months after my abuelita died, I slept with the covers tucked around my six-year-old face. The breeze that blew in from the Caribbean, cooling along the way as it traveled across the mountains, through the concrete city of Caracas, past the iron bars of my bedroom window, entering my mouth, my nose, my ears, felt like something my grandmother had sent from above, just for me. It scared me.

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A Month After Mother's Day

Dear Mom,

As you know, I’ve been wearing glasses since kindergarten and even though Dad is always trying to get me to take them off for picture taking, you’ll see that I’ve managed to keep them on in almost every photo. In my developmental years my glasses were a part of my identity. I was that girl with the ponytail and glasses. I revelled in being identifiable as if my glasses gave me a reputation.

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