by Aliyah Rios
My grandmother stands over the stove, her freshly painted nails stirring a pot full of white rice. Her floral t-shirt and khaki shorts are snug against her frame as her feet make sharp steps on the hardwood floor, her body leaning with each footstep. I plop onto her couch and lean against the armrest, where the droplets from my shower fall from my hair onto the stitched patterns she left on the pillow. She sat on the couch with me, and grabbed her thin bristle brush from the armrest. She positioned her body sideways and told me to do the same, my back facing her. While she brushes my hair, removing every knot my curls carried, she told me about when she was my age.
“Oh, Mami was always working since we had a big family to support. However, Mami always made sure that we were taken care of by the older sisters. My hair was long and curly like yours, would carry many knots too, so Nildia and Nelly would have to help out with my hair. Nildia was always gentle, making sure every strand was soft and smooth without causing a pinch of pain.” She caressed my hair, lightly passed the brush on the ends of my hair. “But Nelly was very rough, I only let her do it a few times because she would just leave me in tears,” she chuckled.
I turned my head towards the side to meet her gaze.
“Can I brush your hair?” I ask.
She laughed lightly. “As long as you make me look beautiful.”
We switched positions, her back towards me while I began to brush her hair, my legs folded together. Although she declared she had hair as long as mine, which reaches midway down my back, her hair now barely passed the nape of her neck, dark and thick. I first started to pass the brush on the back, separating her curls, which made them loose waves.
“Am I being gentle?” I ask. Abuela nods.
Once I finished the back, I told her to position herself facing me so I could start the front. She removed her glasses. Her brown eyes stared back at me.
“Remember, try to make me look beautiful.” She chuckled. I wasn’t quite sure which way to brush it. Should I brush it to the side? Brush it back? I started to brush her hair forward, leaving it matted onto her forehead. She asked for the mirror to look at it, and I hesitated before I handed it over.
She looked at me with a mischievous stare and smiled before she said through her faux deep voice, “You made me look like a boy.” We both started to laugh, eventually gasping for the air that had completely left our system. “Let me show you the right way.”
We walked out of her living room towards the hallway, old pictures of my brother, my father, and even my grandmother were pinched behind edges of circular mirrors that hung on the wall. We look at our reflection on one of the mirrors hanging behind a bedroom door. She then proceeded to brush her hair, she combed the pieces in the front, creating more volume, and then combed back the rest. My small frame and height barely allowed me to reach her shoulders. I glanced back and forth between her reflection and my own, thought to myself about the day I will replicate these skills and can make myself look beautiful.
Aliyah A. Rios has come a long way from her days of writing Austin Mahone fan-fiction and rereading all of John Green’s books. She currently attends the Pennsylvania State University as an English Major with a minor in Business. Aliyah spends her free time participating in poetry slams and staying in touch with her ethnic roots as a member of the Puerto-Rican Student Association. After graduation, she intends to go after a career in book editing at a publishing firm.