|This is Mac making "mollies".|
She loved making those "mollies", once she figured it out.
Me, Laura, Rachel, Grandma, and my Mom
|Here are my grandparents showing us how this tamale thing is done.|
Grandpa is showing us how to spread the masa, as he will tell you grandma doesn't do it right.
Grandma is showing me how to fold. Folding is the hardest part.
It seems most of my life has been spent in this kitchen. The dining room set is still the same one from my child hood. Her sugar lives sits in the same crystal bowl, many of her pans are still cooking up refried beans and rice. Items that stir nostalgia. That make me feel like I'm in another world, the one where I'm waiting for my mom to pick me up. Where I'm a kid, and this place with these people will always be right here at arms length.
I had no idea that while crossing one item off my bucket list, I'd cross another I didn't know was there. Making tamales with my Grandma was on the list. Showing my girls a little glimpse at my own childhood wasn't. A glimpse that will one day only exist in pictures. All I've ever wanted is for them to share their love with these two amazing grandparents. To see them for who they are, and how they have shaped who I am today. My grandparents, who became great grandparents, and if possible, have even more love to share. The joy and laughter they have with my girls is enough to make my heart explode.
|Of course this little Missy had no problem folding her tamale.|
I told her it's because she was born that way.