Wednesday, October 3, 2012
I grew up in a very close knit family where you're grandparents were very involved in your daily routine. I remember my grandfather had this grey van he would pick me up in to take me to pre-school. I loved that van and riding with my grandfather. I remember looking at myself in the huge side view mirror while I sat in the passenger seat and listened to my grandfather tell me stories or try to mold me for the future. I can hear him now, "Mira Zeny tu tienes que sacar buenas notas en la escuela y portarte bien para que un dia seas abogada, doctora, o lo que tu quieras." He was so proud of me always telling me how smart I was. I loved being with him he was my heroe. I felt like I could do no wrong in his eyes. Even when one day at four years old I walked alone through the east side of Bridgeport about 3 miles to his store he welcomed me with open arms. While my parents were freaking out and I got the only spanking I ever receiving from dad that night, my grandfather never scolded me. He just said "whenever you want to come see me you come and I'll be here waiting for you, my smart little girl." I love you abuelo Mipi and thank you for showing me how to color, trace the outline very dark and shade lightly inside, and thank you for teaching me how write my numbers. Tu nieta, Zeny
