Keeper of stories

Spread everything out on the coffee table this afternoon - all the recipe cards, photographs, and notes Abuela Rosa gave me last month.

Keeper of stories

I keep thinking I should organize it somehow, put it all in a proper system, but honestly I’m still processing what she actually handed over to me.

It’s not just recipes. There are stories written in the margins about why she learned to make certain things during the Depression, which spices she couldn’t get for years and how she substituted, even notes about which dishes were for celebrations versus survival.

Three generations of family stories written in Abuela’s careful handwriting.

Some of the cards are in her young handwriting from the 1940s, others are more recent additions when she remembered something new to pass along.

She called me ‘la guardiana’ - the keeper. I thought she was being dramatic, but sitting here reading through decades of her careful documentation, I get it now. This isn’t just about knowing how to make good tamales. It’s about understanding where we came from and making sure those stories don’t disappear.

Jake asked if I wanted help organizing it all, but I’m not ready for that yet. Right now I just want to read every single card and let it sink in that this is mine to carry forward.