78 years of special.

Papa had a birthday. And we love him.

And in this family, no birthday passes without a celebration for those we love.

Welcome to Casa de Abuelos:





When I walk into Papa and Grandma's house, the first thing that hits me is pure nostalgia and the memory of many Christmas' past. The second thing that hits me? The smell. It is the cleanest smell I know. A combination of Clorox, clothes dried in the sun, with a hint of sweetness. I love it.


But even better than the smell, is the people that make this house turn into a party house. Tantes (aunts), uncles, cousins, parents, sisters and grandparents. It makes me all tingly inside just thinking about it and blows my mind that this very same combination of people never gets old. Ever since I can remember, these same faces have gathered around the table for birthdays and holidays and good banter and lots of laughs just continue to flow.


And Papa. Dear Papa. Never was there a wiser or more selfless gentleman. He has so much history (fitting for a former history teacher) in his bones: he has been all over the world, has fought in a war, delivered a baby, suffered loss, has mastered spaghetti sauce, can groove and is such a skilled craftsman.



And one of his best accomplishments: he loves my grandma fiercely.






So to celebrate 78 years of Papa, we ate pizza on the patio accompanied by salad (Grandma's salads are something to write home about) and fresh tomatoes from their garden.

As for desssert? We had ice cream. Why? Because it's Papa's favorite.


Happy, happy Birthday Papa. I love you so.