"What's the happiest memory you have with my grandma?" I ask my mom as we wade in the shallow end of the pool chasing the sun. She pauses to think and answers with an incredulous stare and a head shake, "I don't have one." I watch her float away and see the little girl she deserved to be. We’re in Mexico and I’m supposed to be caring for her post-gallbladder surgery, but it was rescheduled. After the pool, we’ll shower and walk to the mercado before having dinner. The day will become one of my happiest memories with my mom.