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My grandfather's ranch
My grandfather has a ranch where he has a little store. Every day he wakes up early in the morning to take a little breakfast, have lunch to go, and then go to his ranch. What he does there is just be aware of is little store waiting to sell some chips, cookies, or sodas, spending almost all day there. The ranch is located on a hill, at the bottom of the hill is the store next to a highway, but at the middle of the hill is the interesting part. My grandfather was born in a ranch, son of a poor family, grew up with animals like cows, horses and sheep’s. At the middle of the hill he has orange trees, an old truck he used to drive when he was younger and two little stables, one where the cows used to be and another one for the sheep’s. I remember years ago he had a horse, all brown with large hair, he didn’t ride it a lot. He had many cows by the pass of the years and also sheep’s. I go there with him sometimes and every time we are there he has a story to tell me from when was young and all I can see is an expression of happiness in his face. Today only a few sheep’s and the orange trees remain up there but my grandfather go up there daily just to see how his animals are doing, feed them and get distracted while he thinks, maybe on the past, his family, his origins, how time has passed…anyone knows. I think that’s why not even my grandmother nor my mother or uncles tell him to stop going there because of his age, that place, those animals, the memories he revives, are part of him, part of his life, where he come from and what he has achieved.
