All families have their traditions; this Hispanic family is no different. For this family it is sharing family stories of life and struggle on the First Sunday in December sitting in the kitchen as they all make tamales. When a mother must accept the secrets of her son she realizes that their Sunday sessions were not only a source of their love but also something that he cherished in his life. We see the strength in a woman and in a mother as she addresses change and life that she does not have a recipe for.
DI/ Female- First Sunday in December
- (Scene begins we see Lucia. She is a Hispanic woman, cooking and humming or singing a Hispanic hymn as she prepares, she speaks) I learned that song from my great grand mother when I was four years old. Did I ever tell you about her? She was a big, I mean a big woman. And every Sunday she would get up early, take us all to church for mass, come home and all the boys would go play with their toys, but me, I sat right where you are sitting right now and I watched her cook her fabulous dinners. (Smiles) Every single Sunday from age four until she passed away when I was fourteen. Then my mom started making the Sunday dinners and when she passed away, I took over. (Beat) But it was the first Sunday in December that changed my life. (Laughs) I can tell by the look on your face that you realize that today…is the first Sunday in December and I am sharing it with you. Yes, and at this moment of my life I couldn’t imagine sharing it with anyone else. There are twelve first Sundays in the year, but it’s this one in December that shaped my existence. I became a woman on this day. (Laughs) I know, I know my little poppy. A little too much information, but it’s true. It was the first Sunday in December when I was fifteen years old. My wedding to papa was the first Sunday in December in 1984, David came the following year, 1985…my little el hijo. The only one I have…had.