After the flour, salt and baking powder have been mixed together, and you’ve mixed in the manteca, and you’ve added in the water, and the dough has come together as you knead it with your hands, there’s a slight but unmistakable scent. La masa. It was the smell of wet dough that caught my attention.Continue reading “Phantom smells trigger real memories”
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Mom’s red Altima
The email from the probate folks looked like just another email on the surface. It was anything but. It was a punch in the gut, informing us that yet another piece of my mom is gone. My mom’s car has been sold. With that, a piece of her identity is gone. It’s as if moreContinue reading “Mom’s red Altima”
Día de los Muertos: Honoring My Mom
Growing up, I remember grief being expressed very privately in our family. My grandmother, mi Nana Carmen, kept private niches of loved ones on her dresser. When I asked about them, she refused to talk to about it. That’s not who I am. I talk about it. I express it. I write about it. I’veContinue reading “Día de los Muertos: Honoring My Mom”
It was never a fair fight
Writing my mom’s obituary is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I wasn’t ready to exist without her; I sure as hell wasn’t ready for this. The obituary. It’s a big deal, right? It tells the story of your loved one’s life. It also announces to the world that your momContinue reading “It was never a fair fight”
Hija de Gloria | Gloria’s Daughter
I wasn’t ready to lose her. I wasn’t ready to exist in this world without her. She didn’t even know. She had no idea that cancer had been consuming her body or for how long. And then everything happened so fast.
Hija de Gloria | Gloria's Daughter 