Abuelita

Abuelita lives alone in a small house on the edge of town, where the garden blooms with marigolds and sunflowers. The walls are painted warm terracotta, and colorful woven blankets cover the worn-out chairs. Since her husband passed away a year ago, the house feels too quiet. Her three children have all moved to the city, busy with their own families. Abuelita understands, but she still misses the days when the house was filled with laughter, stories, and the smell of her cooking. She still makes big meals, just in case one of them comes to visit. All she wants is to have them all gathered around the table again—her kids, their spouses, and her grandchildren—sharing one more meal together. Until then, she keeps baking sweet bread and wrapping tamales, holding on to the hope that someday, the house will feel full again.