It was a bright and sunny day, the skies clear, and everything was right in the world. Just an ordinary day nothing special, but if only that were true. The day may have been clear, but the hearts of a few hand full of people were not. Instead they were shrouded in darkness and despair, for the one we all had loved has left this world and us behind. People came from far and wide to see her one last time, to see my grandmother’s face one last time. When I heard the news of what had happened, at first, I was not able to process what was actually being said, or what had just happened. After all it was just a couple of weeks ago that we were eating enchiladas and smiling. So now whenever I think of enchiladas it reminds me of not only the sadness …show more content…
The words of grandma’s passing echoed through my mind and then as if winter has yet to end, my heart froze. It was then that I broke out of my trance, as I felt a warm salty liquid run down my face. At that point I thought to myself, “how could this happen” and “why,” to me it just was not fair. It was but only a couple of weeks ago, we were smiling and eating enchiladas. My dad, Shane, and I made them for her. We knew she really liked them, so we thought it might make her feel better. It was made with cheese and onions, apparently that was the way she used to make them. We also tried to make other things she liked, which was TexMex. It consisted of fideo, Mexican rice, corn bread, and of course the enchiladas. We went all out making these; for we did not …show more content…
Life is short, and so we should make the most out of what we have. After the funeral all of us were distraught, but the person I believe it hurt the most was Shane. He was really close and cared deeply for her. But even though you could tell that it really hit him, he still stayed strong for the rest of us. This was definitely a hard time for us all, and though at first I was lost, I somehow managed to pick myself up with the help of my family. After all, life moves on whether you are ready or not. Like a never ending rollercoaster, if you do not get on, you will be left behind. If you blink, you will miss it. Life is a short and precious thing, so l must live it to the fullest and without regrets. Though I miss my grandmother very much, I will keep moving forward, for I know that is what she would have wanted, and that she will forever be in my memories and heart. I think of enchiladas and I remember her and all the memories that come with it. So to my dear grandma, who has left us behind I wish you a
After an eventful night of dancing at nightclubs, I never expected to have the most flavorful tacos reach my mouth. At four in the morning we found ourselves at a small, local hole-in-the-wall where most tourists would not be caught dead at. Even though they were the greatest tacos I have ever had, what I ate most while I was there was tortilla soup. Topped with melted cheese and strips of fried tortillas I devoured a bowl from a place our friend Oscar worked at, Margarita Grille. I am not a soup person but this is something I still crave weekly, as well as the salsa they served. Fresh roasted tomatoes were crushed at our table and mixed with garlic, onions, jalapenos, cilantro and juices of a lime. A scoop of the colorful vegetables on a warm, salted tortilla chip will satisfy your taste buds and keep you going for more. Because Margarita Grille was only a couple blocks from our hotel in the “old town” of Puerto Vallarta, we ate there five or six times. Being an outdoor restaurant, there were always stray cats meandering around for scraps of dropped food. People were told not to feed them, but I think they were a pleasant reminder of being away from
This made everyday a little bit better as I have kept this in the back of my mind. The National Hospice Organization says “In a sense, you are never finished grieving”. This is true, one will always feel sadness when remembering an individual that used to be in your life and is no longer here with you. Although, you can remind yourself the good days that you had with them. Remember their smile and what they did when they seen you. Always remembering that they’re with you everyday just not there
Cilantro Tamales isn’t a typical Mexican restaurant. Upon entering you are immediately greeted with warm smiles, and are led to a bamboo chaired table with all sorts of hot sauces and other sizzling toppings to greet you. The air is filled with spices. The cinnamon and jalapeño aromas mingle and make the mood rich. Every dish on the menu seems delicious and it is always difficult to decide what to order. I always think that any dish which I don’t try gives me the excuse to come back again. Everyone who eats at Cilantro Tamales gets to have an unlimited amount of their fresh, homemade salsa with warm, salty tortilla chips. The thick chunks of tomatoes and onions with hot peppers and cilantro make a perfect combination for anyone’s taste buds. The waiters and waitresses carry immense trays burdened by the weight of great tasting meals, and each dish has enough on it to make mountains jealous. The delicious food is not the only reason Cilantro Tamales stands out. The restaurant itself is rich with culture and flavor. All the walls are a shade of bright yellow or sun burnt orange and red, which add to the Mexican feel. On the walls are historical black and white pictures of Mexico and its people which act as cultural memories of times past. The Latin and Mexican dance music can always be heard in the restaurant. I sometimes can’t help but move to its invigorating rhythm. An interesting facet to the restaurant is the hand crafted pottery.
This research project is focused on how food exists to not only help us survive, but also for helping to create and shape identities, especially the national identity for Mexico. I will approach this topic primarily through a discussion on the formation of Mexican cuisine, but also about how food tells us stories about history, art, tradition, globalization, authenticity, and on gendered food identities, particularly on the role of women and their sense of empowerment through the evolution of Mexican cuisine. Mexico’s ethnic food was a part of their culture, but it became problematic when the Europeans brought with them a variety of new foods and looked at Mexican food as suspicious
It was August 8th of 2013 when my dad got a call from my Aunt Theresa. She urged him to come over to her house because she had devastating news. The car ride to her house was quiet. The weather was gloomy, the sky was filled with dark cumulus clouds.When we pulled up to my Aunt’s house, the adults were organized into a small circle. My uncles were supporting my grandma, however, I thought nothing of it. My parents had told me to go inside because they had a matter to attend to. I went inside to hang out with my cousins. I saw them a couple days before, but the feeling of happiness never subsides when I see them.
I can’t begin to express how hard it is for me to stand here before you and give my last respects to my loving mother - name here. From the biography that was handed out you can recall that during the her early years in the united states she studied and worked in New York where she met and married my dad, the love of her life. They spent the rest of their days loyal and in love with one another. Unfortunately, one day my father passed away with cancer at a young age. My dad was the one who suffered the most, but my mom suffered right along with him. She felt powerless, and for my mom- powerlessness turned in to guilt and grief, a painful distress she lived with on a daily basis for the next six years. When he died part of her died! Life for her was never the same again. I was not able to completely understand her loss- until now…
When a loved one passes away I experience a mixture of emotions. I feel sad because they are gone, and I also feel angry because I feel that their death was wrong and unfair. At the same time I feel happy, and privileged to have known them and had the relationship that I had with them. Most of all, I miss them everyday. There is no right way to respond to the death of a loved one, and no matter how much grief and loss one has gone through it never feels routine nor the same. Although our loved ones may be physically gone, they can still live on through our memories of them.
November 12, 1994 marks the day when I, Gabriela Aceves, was welcomed, with open arms into this cruel and beautiful world. I was greeted by two loving parents, Silvia and Jose, three crazy sisters, Vanessa, Daisy, Stephanie, and Jose my kind brother. I grew up in a loving home. Never did I ever feel unloved nor unappreciated. We were all very close, so close that we would constantly take family vacations together. Our hunger for adventure took us to Florida, California, Colorado, Nevada, Arizona, the list is endless. My father, Jose was a hardworking brilliant man whose presence would be felt whenever he would walk into a room, he was loved and hated by many for his success in both his career and family. My mother Silvia was always a nurturing and supportive housewife she and I were much alike in both our looks and personality. I loved both of them very much I couldn’t have asked for better parents. Even though they were much older than me not once did I ever feel excluded from my siblings ' life. Vanessa,the oldest was the kind of woman who never let
I was numb; I didn't know what to think or feel. My mom continued talking, but the entire conversation seemed unreal. She told me that he had committed suicide and the funeral would be on Friday. I needed to decide if I wanted to go.
Personally, I have always believed objects are nothing more than trinkets or a sorry reason to brag. Throughout my life, I have always struggled with the prospect of being materialistic. To be materialistic is to be money-oriented or concerned in possessions. Only in my recent years have I learned the emotional value that an object can hold. Objects can always have a deeper meaning; a few objects that are deeply intertwined within my spirit are quesadillas, a polaroid camera, and my sketchbook.
I have been very fortunate to have known my maternal and paternal grandparents and great-grandparents. We enjoy a close family and always have. Sadly, my first experience with a close death was when my paternal grandma died at the age of sixty-four of colon cancer. I was in the ninth grade when she died and hers’ was the first wake and funeral I had experienced. I remember having nightmares for weeks after the funeral. As I grew older, I lost my
I know she heard us but she never opened her eyes again until that last moment, she opened her eyes one last night and my grandma told my great grandma “it’s okay mama go ahead daddy’s waiting for you I love you” that was when she took her last breath. It was July 29th around 3am when my dad came in my room and told me “Haley I’m going to the hospital grandma is gone.” At first I just said okay I was in a dead sleep so I didn’t comprehend it in that exact moment. A few minutes later I got out of bed I heard my brother pull in the drive way he left work early to come home and he and I sat and looked though pictures together shedding tears and laughing and asking each other if we remembered this. We all went up my great grandma’s house where all the family gathered about an hour and a half later. Even then I was fine it wasn’t until my grandma walked in the door which is my great grandmas daughter as soon as she did she just sat in my great grandmas’ chair and stated sobbing and that’s when it hit me that she was really gone this wasn’t just some dream it was real. I could taste salt from my tears running down my face into my mouth. After that it was all a complete
As a University student now looking back on the past, all the trials and hardships, my grandmother passing was not all dreadful. In fact, this dreadful event actually opened up my eyes for me to reach my highest peak. It has taught me to be strong and proactive. In addition, it taught me that I should get all I can while I am alive and do not take anything, such as education, for granted.
It was June 6, 2011. I remember taking my mother to the County Hospital’s emergency room. She seemed extremely exhausted; her eyes were half-closed and yellow, and she placed her elbow on the armchair, resting her head on her palm. I remember it was crowded and the wait was long, so she wanted to leave. I was the only one there with her, but I did not allow her to convince me to take her home. I told her in Spanish, “Mom, let’s wait so that we can get this over with and know what’s going on with you. You’ll see everything is okay, and we’ll go home later on.” I wish then and now that would have been the case. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with colon cancer that had spread to many parts of her body including her lungs and kidneys. The doctor said to me not considering that I was a minor and my mother’s daughter, “Her disease is very advanced and we don’t think she will live longer than a year.” With this devastating news, I did not know what to do. I thought to myself that perhaps I should cry, or try to forget and take care of her as best I could and make her laugh to ease her pain.
Dealing with the grief of a loved one is not an easy task. Only time can heal the pain of someone you’re used to be around is suddenly gone. When my uncle passed it was the first experience with death in which I was old enough to understand. Nobody really close to my family had passed away before, so I was unprepared with the pain and sadness that came with it. I also thought about it but I never really thought of something like this happening to me. I wish I had spent more time with my uncle, but I never thought about it because I never thought he would passing away so quickly. This is always why it is good for every day to show your family how much you love and appreciate them because you never know when their last day on earth is.