Summertime Fun

Fabulous Cover Reveal! Hurricanes, Typhoons, Tornadoes- Oh My!

Summertime Fun

I grew up as a Navy brat, moving every two or three years to a new place. But in all the moves, there was one constant—summers in Puerto Rico with my Abuela, nicknamed Gueli.

Throughout my elementary and beginning junior high years, school would let out on Friday and by Sunday my older sister and I had arrived on our Island. We’d stay until days before school started in the fall, when we’d fly back home tanned, beached out, ready to see our parents again.

Let me pause for a moment here and flash forward to the years when I was raising my own daughters to say: Holy Toledo, my parents had the entire summer to themselves! Kid-free!!

Talk about a win-win!

My parents having the summer to be footloose and fancy-free.

My sister and me living it up on the beach ,

eating fresh mangos from Gueli’s tree ,

buying a bag of tart-sweet quenepas,

swinging on the hammock in her marquecina (carport), filling our bellies with fried plantains, rice and beans and pernil (pork).

My fondest memories?

Sitting at the counter watching Gueli whipping up something to eat in her kitchen.

Waking up to the smell of her frying pastelillos

and tiritas, the anticipation of licking the cinnamon sugar from my fingers. Feeling the tropical sun on my skin. Driving around the island to help her deliver the tasty food she made and sold.

Closing my eyes and laying my head on the pillow after a day of floating on a tube,

still feeling the rise and fall of the waves lulling me to sleep, along with the chorus of the coquís

serenading me through the screened window. Family gatherings with delicious food, good music and lots of dancing.

I can still taste the piraguas

from the piraguero in Viejo San Juan.

See the rolling grassy field leading up to El Morro .

Feel the peck of the palomas on my hand as I bent down to feed them

in El Parque de las Palomas.

Picture the vibrant colors and friendly people. Feel the heat. The humidity. The ocean breeze.

But mostly, I remember Gueli. Her smiling face. Her welcoming hugs. Her shushing us during her novelas or laughing with us as we watched the antics of El Chapulin Colorado. Cheering for the players she knew on the Braves and our beloved Cubbies.

Really, what I remember and miss is my Gueli’s unconditional love. I’ve forgotten a lot of things in my life, but I can still remember her home phone number. And oh what I wouldn’t give to be able to pick up the phone and give her a call.

But those memories I have with her, those days of idyllic childhood summers and an abuela who still lives larger than life in my mind…I wouldn’t trade them for a million dolares.