Summers in her yellow house. Remembering the way she left it. She knew she wouldn't return and wanted to be close to her six daughters, four sons, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. She sacrificed dying in her motherland across the border to rest close to her loves. Her decorations, linens, plants, and lamps in her sunroom filled with her warmth. The kitchen will always carry her flavor, her shiny clean stove top; her knick-knacks sprinkled all around. La Casa en la Calle Obregón will never be the same. It feels empty, but her smiles and stories are captured in La Casa Amarilla.
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