I see my Abuelita’s screened door swinging in my mind’s eye: sunlight piercing through the mosquito net, the scent of warm tortillas in the air. Even at 4, I know that Abuelita is not rich, not like my other, Italian grandmother. Now, over three decades later, my Abuelita’s screened door inhabits my dreams. I hear its constant opening and closing as a parade of aunts, uncles, cousins and chickens stream through. Abuelita’s home in Honduras is my first home, the home of my heart, the one where closing doors never mean “goodbye,” but, rather, “see you soon.” — Cindy Lamothe

Positively Purging-I welcome your feedbacks in the comments and your likes and passing the real life wisdom on to others as I embark on this new venture of “positively purging“, as I know each of these pieces represents something…