PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Its six o´clock of the morning, the sun starts rising, everybody is sleeping, except for one person. My brother and I smell something delicious that wakes us up. We certainly know it was time for breakfast.  We start a race to the kitchen pushing us each other, making a lot noise, when we bump with her, my old grandma, making some scramble eggs and entomadas with black beans listening  to Agustin Lara and making some dance steps while she cooks. She saw us and with a strong and mad voice said, “The kitchen is not open yet,  go back to bed and come in an hour, or both of you would stay without breakfast”. My brother and I disappointed, and without saying a word return to bed, obviously with any feeling to sleep, we were only counting the tic-tac of the clock to finally pass the hour. I think we start doing this since I was 7 and he 6, every morning of the weekend of holidays that we spent on grandma’s house at Veracruz.  With the time we get older, and we stop waking up that early, but the smell and soft music was always on time, at six o’clock. When I think about my grandma, her kitchen always comes to my mind, always worried for the breakfast, lunch, dinner, to be perfect for us. I remember no one could start eating before every single person was on the on the table, my grandma always was the last. At the beginning I didn’t understand why this was such a big deal, this kind of tradition or routine for every single day. Sadly when she passes away I finally understand. It was not the food, or the kitchen, or the time. It was always the family. All this routine was an excuse to bring us together. Everyone in the house, my parents, uncles, and cousins knew that you should never skip grandma´s lunch. If you finish your dish, she always offers you more, and if you didn’t finish it, you expect always the worse, she gets so mad, and starts saying all this lectures about wasting the food, that at the end you always ask for one more dish.  Probably we spent like 2 to 3 hours in each meal. And you could always see the happiness in her eyes, to watch us all together satisfied with the food that lovely and gently she prepares to us in her kitchen every day.