I’m from clear plastic couch covers that stick to your skin on hot summer days
from sofrito and Sazon as necessities in meals.
I am from wicker fan chairs and clown figuras on the glass coffee table and Abuela’s cinnamon apple tea con leche filled the cold winter night while novelas played on the TV.
I am from too-many-houseplants on table stands by the living room front windows, whose long limbs managed to eventually connect, and I remember as if they were my own.
I’m from chuchazo, capicu, chiva domino playing and in your face, tell like it is, kind of attitude.
From Jibarro Carlos Maldonado & exquisite Margarita Espada.
I’m from Saturday morning cereal and cartoons followed by Saturday cleaning with loud disco and Dusties music playing in the background.
I am from “if you keep on making that face, it’s going to stay that way forever” and Vicks and 7up are the mighty healers of all sicknesses and when you injured yourself you were sung to- “Sana, Sana, Colita de Rana”
I’m from Parrandas on Nochebuena with asopao de pollo
I am from Chicago and my roots are from Puerto Rico- mi isla del encanto where
arroz con gandules and puerco frito is what we loved and lived off of.
I am from a name on a birth certificate that means nothing, because you will still be called – Gordo, Flaca, Futbol, Mimi, Lola, Duno, etc.
I am from Saturday evenings sitting on the couch admiring my mom and dad practice their Salsa moves while the sounds of Puerto Rico filled our house.
I’m from my mom wearing a black silky fitted, spaghetti stringed dress, red shiny high heals, fishnet nylons, and bright red lipstick to top it off,
as my dad spun her around the room, her radiant wide smile will reveal the slight gap between her two front teeth.
I am from her, the most courageous woman that I will ever cross paths with.
Sometimes, when I look in the mirror I see her, and for that I am grateful.
I’m from that red lipstick, dark hair and eyes; you either love it or leave it kind of attitude woman.
I am from Margarita, the woman that I’ll always look up to, and never forget.
Rosabel Sanchez 
Beautiful!
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God bless you and I’m thakful that you share your beautiful memories and your heart with me. Amor, Carino, Besos y Bendiciones to you and the family. Happy Thanksgiving!
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So sorry your mom had to go through this sickness so young.
And as her children even harder.
My mom also was diagnosed in her late 70s.
When she was in her 80s it was really hard for me.
My family had disowned me so I was limited.
Was not able to be with her when she passed away after a bad fall.
Thank you for sharing.Beautiful that you were able to pray with your mom.
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I remember meeting your mom. She was a beautiful woman with an exuberance & love of life that touched everything & everyone around her. Keep playing the music you feel in your heart and she will dance forever.
I love you and please keep on writing.
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Hi Rosa I don’t read all your blogs as soon as they come out. I like to read them like a Novel with each and every writing it more and more of your beautiful life and the Lords UNFAILING LOVE FOR YOUR FAMILY AND YOU…
You display such humbleness But truth and the reflection into your life is mind blowing.
in this story It reminded me of the Pic of Juan and you going out on a a date during Christmas in your sleek black dress and your red lipstick and fish nets …LUV IT THANK YOU FOR SHARINF YOUR HEART EVEN AT TIMES ITS SO HARD
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I love this.
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