Lately, she’s so busy trying to take care of everybody that she never seems to have time to stop and think about how different things are. These days my grandmother’s house has a blanket of quietness lying over it that doesn’t seem right. I imagine my grandmother feeling lonely. Summers before this I can’t remember a Sunday when the house wasn’t filled with vecinos and Gorda would have the merengue blasting on one side of the apartment and Victor had his game on TV on the other. The times when my grandfather could actually keep my grandmother company. But now people walk in as if they’re
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Grandmother matriarchs and the passage of time
