Un cafecito, por favor…

Queridos —

So…I don’t think this is just a Mexican-American thing but, for me, I have no other frame to work from so let’s just call this a Mexican-American thing.

I remember going to my grandparent’s house on Sunday morning and sitting around their big dinner table (you know…the one that seemed too big for the kitchen it was in) and eating barbacoa and/or lengua tacos. The meal was peppered with the stories of the previous week and the plans for the one that started the next day. There was some laughter, some scolding, and even some crying sometimes. All the while my grandparents and dad would be drinking coffee with their meal while I was enjoying a 20oz Big Red and my mom a diet soda…you know, to cancel out the calories in the tacos.

ANYWAY….

I could never, and still don’t, understand how they could drink a hot beverage while eating and each cup seemed to last for SO LONG! The small and slow sip of this near boiling beverage seemed to be counterproductive to me because you couldn’t get enough in your mouth to produce a bouquet of taste anywhere near the beauty of my barbacoa and Big Red. So, I just labeled it one of those “old person” things like grumpiness and driving slow. However, looking back now while being in the second half of my life, I am seeming to grow a new perspective on this particular “old person” thing. Let me explain…

Those stories that I mentioned earlier…well they went on for hours. To be more precise, they talked until the coffee was gone. Those hours of stories and moments helped me and my cousins craft memories of my grandfather’s chuckle, my grandmother’s smile, the loving way they interacted with one another, and how they showed love to their family. In between what seemed to be short painful and tongue blistering sips of coffee laid the foundation of my life — defining my past and shaping my future.

You see, I had to look past the idea of the coffee and start thinking about it as cafecito…if you’re like me things always sound better in Spanish and take on a different meaning. Cafecito to me now means memories, stories, love, my family. Those things can’t be bought at Starbucks. So, next Sunday grab some pink cake and have some cafecito time with those you love and then repeat it as long as you can.

Se cuiden…

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