Grandma's Machete

by Deidrene Crisanto

I always remember my grandmother as being old, even though I'm sure she was young at one point. She was from the Philippines, and I don't think she ever quite adjusted to "American" life as we know it, because my memories of her always included a (big) machete. It was old, and rusted, and looked like it probably was used to hack through a jungle or two; but in her hands, it was an artist's tool. She had always loved gardening, and that machete was her main tool; weeding, digging, defending her squash, you name it. Her brand of hardcore gardening aside, she was one of the most inspiring, lovely, and offbeat people I knew. I miss her.


Deidrene Crisanto is bioless.