Home Is Where the Heart Is... but I See My Grandmothers Everywhere
Felicita & Faustina.
The OG Dominican Golden Girls with a Martha Stewart twist and a side of sass.
Do you ever see, feel, smell your loved ones that have passed on? Like, not in a spooky ghost way (calm down, Netflix), but in the kind of way where you're just minding your business and suddenly you hear their voice in your head saying “¡Dios me la bendiga, mi hija!”
Yeah. That.
Earlier this year, I went back to my homeland, the Dominican Republic. I try to visit often. It doesn’t matter where in the world I am DR is always home. Something about the air, the heat, the birds chirping in a different accent it's in my bones.
I grew up spending summers there. In my early twenties, I even lived in Santo Domingo with my grandmother Felicita, and would visit my other grandmother Faustina in Santiago. Their voices still echo in my soul. Their energy, their love it lingers.
Every time I arrive, it hits me:
“¡Bendición, abuela!”
“¡Bendición, mamá!”“Dios me la bendiga, mi hija.”
Same tone, same warmth, same reverence. I still greet my parents this way. Is it religion? Culture? Habit? Who knows. All I know is it feels right.
This trip was special. I brought my daughter and my wife, both visiting for the first time. I couldn’t wait to show them my beautiful island even if I wasn’t born on that soil, it’s in me. In every part of me.
We went to the cemetery to bring flowers to my uncle and grandfather. The moment I stepped in, I felt her my abuela. Her spirit wasn’t spooky, it was familiar. Like someone saying, “You better not forget to water those plants, niña.”
I chuckled, because I could literally hear her broken English cursing the flower guy or the heat or the state of the roads. To most people, she probably seemed like a grumpy, no nonsense lady. But to me? She was comedy gold with the driest, darkest humor. She would say I love you with a joke on the side... but her hugs? Rare, warm, and full of laughter.
When I opened my studio shop, so much of what I’ve built came from them. From their kitchens that looked like a Dominican Anthropologie store, to the way they hosted people like every Thursday was Nochebuena. The table settings. The craft. The art. The food. The vibe.
My dad inherited that too he’d plate food like it was a Food Network show, wine bottles displayed like they were on tour, and the storytelling? All Felicita.
I am a translated version of them and writing this, I miss them so much that I’ve got tears in my eyes. But they’d be SO proud to see their names out loud, in color, in maximalism, in bravery.
If you’re new to my studio shop thank you.
This thing I’m building is scary. It’s nerve wracking. It’s personal.
But it’s mine. It’s my heart. It’s how I keep my beautiful culture and family traditions alive.
So bendiciones to YOU. Always.
Now you know the story behind our new sweatshirt! Go ahead, hit SHOP.
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