When reality hits

September 20th…

It’s crazy how you think once you’ve achieved what you thought impossible. After a few months of working in my dream company, it just doesn’t seem to hold the same value when compared to family. These past few days have made me think whether or not that dream job is really worth being away from my family, from all those I love. Yea I have a “better” life in Miami, but does a life with more luxury really mean better? I don’t know. I really can’t tell. Grandma wants to go. Health wise she’s better, but her spirit is losing hope, she’s losing strength. Complications come and go. But more of them come than the ones that leave, so it’s a ticking bomb waiting to explode,waving us all as casualties of losing her. It’s inevitable but she’s the glue that holds us together, everyone one of us have some traits of her. We’re alike her in some way, though we’re all so different. We are who we are because of her, she either yelled at us for not eating well, not dressing right, not marrying when it seemed fit. She also overlooked our mess and crazy because she loved us. We’re her biggest treasure, and in her suffering all she wants is to have us ll around her. She wants the bunch s she so asked two days ago. Through her pain, her suffering, her lack of connect, she had enough understanding to ask for us, because she wanted us beside her.

I realize I’ve learned to live without my family and therefore learned not to miss them, but oh how I’ve enjoyed these days. How can I go back and still have them? It makes it hard, the comfort doesn’t make up for the love. I’d stay and let go of everything just to never forget to miss them, to appreciate them, to love them. It’s not the time, but who knows except for God. All I know is that I’m not the same, I’m changing and hopefully for the best

She Left

She left. But so did I. That same day, at 5 AM, my mom and I were on our way back. And boy did I dread that flight, I think more than any other flight I’ve been on. I wanted nothing more than to go back to that room and being by her side. Forget work, forget dream, forget friends, all I wanted was to caress her hair one more time. I feel like I didn’t have enough of those, nor kisses on her forehead, or blessings, or feedings, or any of those. There just was enough time with her. At least not for me. Maybe because I was the youngest grandchild, maybe because I lived away. None of the reasons matter today, all I know is that she left.

At 98 she had survived a stroke, an enlarged heart, over 70 years of smoking without lung cancer. But she also suffered from leukemia, cancer in one of her kidneys, complications with coagulation due to the meds she took for her heart, year of immobility, severe osteoporosis, and a full life of heart- and headaches given by a family not every can be a member of. But yet she was still strong, she held on to life like few people do. I knew it was her sense of responsibility, because I know that feeling all too well.  I got it from her. If anything losing her has done, is shown me how much of her I have, how like her I am, I’m still processing it.

I walked into the ICU unit where she was and I could still see her longing for life, she wanted to go back home so bad. She wanted to be in her room, with every single family member around her. Good thing is that we aren’t many, we’re a small family in comparison to so many families we know. But I think we were the exact size for her, cozy enough to keep her warm and alive as she fought through the pain.

But suddenly, she lost. That fire, that fight, her will to live. In the transit from hospital to hospital, she lost all her energy. Apparently her should was broken, it is believed it happened in that same transit. All I know is that one day I saw her fighting, the next she could barely complain about the heat. A women who would tell you what was on her mind at any moment, barely expressed her thirst. Someone stole it from her. Her voice, it was gone.

At one point during the trip I thought she would actually overcome this and make it home to last us another year or so. She had done it so many times, have our hearts hanging by a string, only to fool us in gaining some superhuman strength and go back to requiring the full beauty treatment before leaving her room. That’s who she was, vanity was part of what made her so special in my eyes. She would require her hair combed a certain way, powder and lipstick. They were non-negotiable unless you were ready to be challenged by a 98-year-old woman with two hearing aids. She could be many things, except having visitors over without her best outfit. That she would not take.

She even complained about it in ICU, “they haven’t combed my hair” she said. Just like she said she liked my purple hair. You best believe I felt like a champ, no one could say a word now because grandma said she liked it, and if such a fashion lady liked it, your disapproval at this point has no worth. At least that was my take on it and hey, it worked.

The problem was, her shoulder wasn’t the only thing that broke in that transit. Her will live disappeared too. She had much less energy in a period of 48 hours. She could barely express herself and had about 80% harder time eating. What happened? Maybe it was just time, maybe she got tired, maybe she felt at peace because now she had seen everyone, at least all of her children. The reasons we don’t know. But in a matter of 3 days she made it back home, and yet the night right before we were to come back she was rushed to the hospital. And I knew, I just knew it was the end.

We didn’t get to have a proper goodbye. We said “we’ll see you later” because we were going to pack our bags and go back to spend some more time with her. It was 5:30 PM. at 7 PM when we were leaving the place we were staying at, we got the call. She needs to be rushed back to the hospital so cancel your plans. Bags were made so I left my mother behind and rushed out with one of my aunts.

Next thing I know I see her in a wheelchair being taken out, not even a glance to connect, she can’t really make out what’s happening. She’s there, but not quite. I knew it was it. We arrived in Miami at exactly noon, and  at 11:02 PM we were told she had left at 11 PM, like almost planned to be so exact. And that was it. No more grandma. The last one I had was no more. Her body cremated, her soul lifted, and her essence more alive with and in me than ever before. She’s not gone, just not here on Earth anymore. We will remember her so much it’ll be impossible for her to leave us. It’s just what happens when someone who changed your life dies, they stay alive in the midst of the best memories of your life. And so though she left, she can never truly die.

Asi Te Pienso Recordar

Así te pienso recordar. El creaba la risa, pero tu llenabas el salón. Tu vida, tu alegria, ese amor que rebosaba, nos apretaba hasta los huesos y nos estremecía. Lo reitero, somos lo que somos por tu amor. Somos quienes somos por tus regaños, tus “planche la camisa, vístase mejor, como se le ocurre salir así”. Nos enseñaste el valor de la familia y sino no fuera por ti, tal vez esta pequeña tribu no viviría con la pasión que vivimos. Logramos cosas en esta vida bailando llenarte de admiración por los une han nacido de ti. Me encanta que me regañaras aunque en el momento me molestara. Aunque me hicieran quedar mal los primos por los tatuajes y cosas raras, tu me las celebrabas… Como que la menor no podía hacer cosa mala 😂… Nuestras jugadas de parques, de domino, de cartas. Todas las disfrute… No sabias cocinar pero no Javi nada mas delicioso que ir a donde la abuela a comer. Te amo y se que mucho hay en mi de ti, y eso le agradezco a Dios porque se ir no te puedo olvidar, ni podrás nunca estar lejos de mi. Te nos fuiste pero la obra sigue aquí para asegurarnos que la rumba siga allá. Esa rumba que tanto te gusto, que tanto viviste, que tanto pediste. La bochinchera de toda tu familia reunida haciendo ruido solo por alegrarte. Esa fiesta que te dio vida, te causo gracia, y que gozaste viéndonos felices a tu alrededor. Amo a Colombia porque fue donde te conocí y donde siempre te encontré. Mi princesa, mi bonita, mi linda, mi abuelita. Mi mejor regalo. (at Pereira, Colombia)

Her faith

My grandma’s faith confronts mine. She doesn’t have this big ambition towards God. She doesn’t believe in Him hoping to get something great out of Him of their relationship. She finds rest in praying her rosary, believing He listens and somehow that’s enough to soothe all her pain.

She’s not a thing to preach to the world, save thousands for Him, she just hopes to pray another “Our Father”. She’s not out looking for anointing, or platform, or conversion. She just believes, she has enough mind to ask Him to take away the leg pain that torments her without questioning Him if the pain never goes away. She’s not doubtful, she’s not confronting Him, not scared, just a faithful believer of a God she may not completely understand but fully follows. How lovely, such uninterested, unaltered, unfailing love.