Ice creams

When my parents separated, with my mom and brother we went to live in a house in Chiguayante, a commune located in between green hills, and one of the largest rivers from Chile's south. My mom worked all day long, while my brother and I spent almost the entire day at school, so we just saw her at bed time and when we woke up.

On saturdays, after visiting our grandparents, we almost always tagged along for her pending paperwork and then for buying some things to eat over the week. It was then that she let us pick an ice cream tub, each one picked their favourite flavor; mom lucuma, my brother chocolate and I, pineapple.

On sundays we stayed in bed watching television all day, we watched the four channels avaliable and the five vhs tapes that we repeated each weekend.

​Even though this epoque might have been sad, I felt like it was perfect. The moment of eating ice cream the three of us in bed meant family. Now that each one of us lives in different countries, ice cream takes me back to those times.