The salty taste of arroz con gandules, carne vieja and a slice of cold aguacate.
The daytime soap opera plays in the background as I wait for mami to leave work and get me.
My grandma sings hymns softly while my grandpa looks out the window.
A chorus of bird songs accompany Grandma’s melody.
A toddler, I sit on the chilly tile floor, preferring this to the sofa with the plastic.
Grandpa was always so quiet; Grandma was loud and commanding.
They were perfectly in harmony as they rocked in their chairs, and I daydreamed and loved them.