MY MEMOIR

Grand mother’s bed room

Since I was 6 years old I have been talking about teen age self esteem to the people that I trust in who sit every afternoon at mama’s bed room in hot neigh boor hood, south queens. The bed room is large and big. There is a big chimney next to the cough, and this is where she sits when she wants to take a brake in the house. Outside she can she the birds at the orange tree, eating the raise that she left them, and she can who’s throwing water to the flowers or who’s child is walking out waiting at the bus station to pick them up. There are buildings all around, and her eyes will follow them looking how much high they are, up past Gabriela’s Zunigas’ house and on. When I am visiting, I make sure I never sit in Grand mother’s cough. I want her to be warm next to her chimney.

Relatives will come by- Uncle Asela and cousin Anyelina, Yorzany and the guys, Carla and the baby and all sit in the big cough in the window way or on an extra old extra chair that will not let anybody to go to the kitchen who’s trying to get to through the kitchen. But everybody wants to go into the kitchen to eat the cultural food that Grand mama’s cook every afternoon, where there are plenty of sits for all of us. We want to be in Grand mama’s kitchen, near this heavy old table, and we want to drink chocolate and coffee and cake or clean over after that eating bread and talk having a family conversation been unit to each other sharing each one of us our experiences until we are all talked out, and there is everything clean or nothing left to do but go on home and rest up and come back tomorrow to talk some more and at the same time take care of Grand mama’s.