XAVIER'S POV
{Scroll down for the translations; I shall put them in the comments too.}
"Ven ven, muchacho, has crecido tanto."
Ahh, the Spanish. I have missed it. It's been a long time since I heard some. Mum didn't like the language, so she only spoke it when she visited Spain.
And there she was, my grandmother, loud and beautiful, laughing as if she were a child. Her wrinkles were the map of her soul, made all the more intricate by the sweet paths she'd danced since her birth. I always felt that it was who she truly was, that joy, that sound that tickled everyone else inside until they smiled wide and true.
My grandmother stood at the gateway of our family mansion with her arms wide open. She looked frail and delicate, but even at the age of 72, she was really strong.
Never needed anyone's help. She was the woman who had rather work alone than depend on someone.
"Ahh abuela, ¿cómo has estado? ¿Todo bien?"
