Author: Anonymous

Photo Illustration

¡Ay Te Wacho!

When I was little, my Gramma would chase me around saying “I’m gonna eat you up!” and when she would catch me, she would pinch me and bite me. I would squeal – not because I was in pain, but because I found delight in her love and attention. As an adult, I turned the tables. I would grab her and hug her tight, kiss her all over and sometimes nibble on her. “¡No me ‘hogas (don’t suffocate me)!” she would yell as she pushed me away. “It’s all your fault, Gram,” I told her. “I learned it from you!” I adored my Gramma. She was one of my best friends. Then I was told my cariños, my gestures of affection, could be reported as elder abuse. By that time, Gram was no longer in control of her own life. She was a money-making business. *  * My Gramma was born in Mexico in July 1918, in a pueblito called Padilla in the state of Tamaulipas, which is located south of the tip of Texas. …