Author Spotlight – Janie M. Isidoro

I'm driving through the city heading out of town. My coffee is perfect. The sun hits the lower part of my face warming it up. I look forward to these Sunday morning drives every week.  

My parents own two acres on the outskirts of Visalia. That’s where we grew up. We had animals and all that good stuff. I come over to their house every week to help my jefe with the land and any other stuff he needs.  

I pull up the long driveway. It has palm trees lined up on each side and green grass through the front. Our house is very "Mexican" looking. It’s mustard yellow, and roses are everywhere. I hop off my truck and open the front door to see my mom in the kitchen making tortillas de maíz. She looks up at me, and her eyes light up, “Mijo chulo! Ya llegaste!”   

I go around the counter, and I give her a big hug and kiss on her cheek, “Si ama, I’m here. Como están?”  

She turns the five tortillas she has on her comal that extends across two burners, “Good Mijo, your dad is outside turning the dirt in the back. He's getting the ground ready to plant some corn.”   

I look out the window, “Let me go tell him que ya llegué.”   

She turns to look at me with her smile that I love so much, “Ok mijo.”    

I walk out the big sliding doors and take in the view. It's firme out here. Every week that I come, I feel like there's no place like it. I see my dad on his tractor, and at his age, he is still strong. Sixty-Three years old and does all his work. That’s how I hope to be.  

I go out to the field. He sees me and throws me that big smile that everyone says I got from him. I pick my arms up in the air. He gets off the tractor and makes his way towards me, “Ya llegaste, hijo!” He says in his deep voice.   

I nod yes, “Si Jefe, apenas ahorita.”   

He gives me a hug, “Me vas a ayudar con esto, o qué?”   

“Well yeah! We all know that's why you want me over here every Sunday.”   

He nods yes as he wipes his forehead with his bandanna, “Pues si es cierto Mijo.”   

We both laugh and start walking towards the east of his land where he has another tractor. I get up on it and get it going. He hops on the back, and we head towards the field and get to work.  

A few hours have passed, and in the distance, I can see someone running out to the field.  It's Hector. I see my dad shut off the tractor and run towards his grandson. Hector is his pride and joy. He jumps on his Abuelo, hugs his neck, and gives him kisses on his cheek. Hector yells, “Buelo, can you take me on the tractor?” 

My dad kisses his forehead, “Of course mijito, let's go.” And they're off.