Tortillas and Coffee with my Mexican Grandma


I’ve shared these pictures so much…but here they are again. I call her my “Mexican grandma”. Why? Because she was. Virginia Gonzalez Guerrero. My father’s mother.  She stood about 5 feet and had the most gentle eyes. I have the fondest memories of her.  She was strong, but quiet. She was a lady of hospitality and lived a quiet live, minding her own business.grandma picnic

grandmas kitchen

Here is where I would sit to eat my tortillas while grandma percolated her coffee on the old gas stove. She would drink her coffee and I would drink my milk from a colored aluminum cup.  I always got to pick the colored cup and the Fiesta colored plate. (Still love dishes to this day !!) I would look out the window there and watch the cars go under the big walk-over bridge on I-10 in San Antonio.  There was also a pear tree out back I always admired and ate many pears from. I still think of my grandma when I smell coffee and tortillas. I always have the fondest memories of you Grandma !

grandmas poem


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