You Take A Piece of My Heart

My grandmother, on my father’s side, passed away on Tuesday afternoon. It was completely unexpected. The circumstances that led to her being in such a fragile state to begin with fill me with such anger, and I hope that eventually something will be done. But there’s no bringing her back. And right now, I am just filled with sadness that we can’t be there. Thankfully, my father is. What was originally supposed to be a week stay beginning this Friday turned into him leaving a full week earlier. Because of this he was able to be at her side until she passed. And I find great comfort in that. When my dad called us on Tuesday afternoon with the news I was devastated. But I was also extremely grateful that he was able to be there with her.

My grandmother was a wonderful woman. I would argue that she was practically a saint. She lived for her children. And then when grandchildren came along she reveled in the role of grandmother. She selflessly served others, and there was never a stranger. When my brother and I were growing up we spent weeks out of our summer at my grandparent’s house just outside of Ciudad Victoria. There were a few Christmases there too. She would always have flour tortillas, pan dulce, and chocolate milk stocked up for when we arrived. We would walk all over that tiny village, and sometimes take the bus into “el centro” for shopping. God, I loved being there. In that house with the wrap around balcony, and the great big windows that let in a cool breeze that somehow always smelled like rain. We’d often sit on the edge of that balcony at night just looking out over the village. Stargazing when the lights began to turn off all around us. Their home is surrounded by plants, trees, vegetables, and flowers that she planted and tended to her whole life. She insisted that they be looked after at all times when she was away. Those trips to Mexico taught me a lot about life. How fortunate I was to have been born in Texas. To have such a big family with roots in Mexico. To be able to come and go when I wanted. To be grateful for what my dad went through in order to get to where he’s at. Which never would have happened had my grandmother not pushed him. Wanted better for him. And I will always love her for that.

As we got older, and laws became stricter we weren’t able to visit as often. It’s been about fourteen years since I’ve been to their home. Sometimes she and my grandpa would meet us at our cousin’s house in Reynosa in order for us to be able to see them. And then in the past two years we started making trips down so that they could come to Texas for a few stays out of the year. The last time they were here was in June, and I’m so happy that we were able to have them here for over a month. When they left to go back home I sat in the room as she packed up her things. We double checked to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything. Especially the Nivea lotion that she had discovered, and fell in love with. My dad had bought her a great big bottle, and she had it stacked on top of everything in her bag. She was excited to be getting back home to her garden, and her eyes twinkled. When she finished, she sat next to me on the bed, and put her head on my shoulder. I hugged her, and kissed her forehead. “Te quiero tanto, buelita.” I told her as we held onto each other. “Yo tambien mi niña. Te quiero mucho.” she said after kissing my cheek. And then she told me that I would have to come visit in the Spring so that I could see all of her flowers. I told her I would apply for my passport at the beginning of 2019 in order to be ready for a trip in the Spring. This whole year I had been putting off getting a passport because I didn’t need one in order to cross into Reynosa when we went to pick them up. My dad would offer to pay for it but we’d all been pretty tight on money so I would decline and tell him we’d do it another day. When we had more money and time. Today as I sit here typing this up I’m regretting that decision so much. The last mental image I have of my grandmother is one of excitement and happiness on her face. Of hugs, kisses, and plans for the future. I will treasure that image of her always. It was the perfect example of who she was.

Today, they are laying my grandmother to rest. Since we (Emery, my mother, sister-in-law, and myself) don’t have passports we were unable to go. We looked into an emergency passport card, but they still take 2-4 days to process. And as her passing was very unexpected they wouldn’t be ready in time even if we went that route. So today, since we can't be there in person, I’m choosing to remember all of the best memories I have of her. I will remember her voice, that laugh, and the way she would say “Beto” when calling for my dad. I will remember the happiness and tears she had when we bought her a new Wringer Washer. She did not like updated washing machines. I will remember the pan dulce she would sneak me, and the sly little smile she would give when my dad would mention taking her out for ice cream. I will remember how she always wanted to feed us. Even after we had already eaten. I will remember her as a strong mother who suffered so much, but made the best of everything. Today I choose to celebrate who she was, and I can only hope that I'm able to carry some of that on with me.

💕