The Games We Played

Word count: 535

My corner cabinet hiding spot

I remember the smell of rusting silver; I remember the cold granite floor under my bare feet; I remember closing my eyes because no one can see me if I can’t see them.

I must have looked ridiculous honestly. There I was standing in my grandparents’ kitchen, maybe four years old, hiding in the little cove that the pots and pans cabinet created in the corner when you opened its door. It created a little box, just small enough for me to stand in with my feet sticking out at the bottom and at least the top three inches of my head sticking out at top. In my little four-year-old head, it was the perfect hiding spot for every game of Hide & Seek.

I’m going to introduce you to someone.

Katerina and I in our grandparents' house on Halloween in 2001

My absolute best friend in the world is my younger cousin, Katerina. She’s only ten months younger than me and we basically grew up like twins, so any childhood memory I have, she could explain it to you herself because she was most likely there too. 

Katerina and I spent pretty much every day of our childhood at our grandparents’ house. It’s the place that holds some of our most prized memories of childhood. 

We did so much in that house and, to be honest, I think our parents still don’t know about all of it. Aside from the usual tea parties and Lego stacking competitions that were a part of everyone’s childhood, we mattress-surfed down the stairs, watched Mary Poppins under pillow forts, and covered the kitchen table in blankets to drink our Oreo milkshakes on while watching Beauty and the Beast. 

I remember looking at my grandparents’ house as if it were a castle; going there meant being in this vast place where opportunities are endless. And my grandmother was the one responsible for that.

Don’t get me wrong, my grandfather was one of the most generous and selfless people I will ever get to know. He came to this country with barely anything in his pockets, and built a living to support his wife and three daughters. When he got to the point where he could comfortably support himself and his family, he would regularly pack his car full of groceries and brand new clothes to give to some of his employees’ families if he knew they were struggling. We didn’t even know this was something he used to do until his best friend told us about it at his funeral in 2009 after he died of Pancreatic Cancer at 64 years old. 

All this aside, he was not a kids person. He loved from a distance and let his wife entertain us.

My grandparents

To this day, my grandma is my favorite person in the world. She’s not even five feet tall, but she can muster up enough English to knock you onto your knees if you cross her or her family.

My grandma was the one who joined in on the tea parties and made us the Oreo milkshakes that we weren’t allowed to have at home. She was the one who made that house a magical place for us, not by giving us everything we wanted, but by constantly surrounding us with her love and warmth.