Today is the 7th
year anniversary of my abuela’s passing (my mom’s mom). I remember that day
like it was yesterday. Shortly after the New Year in 2007 my abuelita became
sick. My brother had spent Christmas and New Years in Puerto Rico at her house.
He took her to the hospital but he had to leave back to Houston, Texas. He was
very worried and hated to leave her but he had to go back to work. My parents
went down from Flint, Michigan to be with her.
There was something different
about this time. I felt in my heart that I had to go see her. I was talking
with my husband about leaving and begun to make my plans. I spoke to my mother
to tell her but she told me no. My heart kept telling me to go. I felt this
urging I can’t explain but I wanted to honor my mother. I felt that if I went
to Puerto Rico (against my mother’s wishes) that would have been admitting that
I felt like she was not going to make it.
January 7, 2007
started like any other day. By the early evening my husband and I were home in
El Paso, Texas watching TV. I don’t recall the show but I feel like it was
something funny. My husband was sitting on the couch and I was sitting on the
floor. I do not know why I was sitting on the floor since that is not something
I normally did. The phone rang and my husband answered it. I knew something was
wrong by the look on his face when he handed me the phone. All I could hear was
my mother crying and I knew. Mami mustered some strength to tell me that that
viejita bella had died. My mom passed the phone to my dad. He was crying too
and he let me go. I have never felt that kind of pain in my life. I had lost
other grandparents but I loved Lydia deeply.
I went to Puerto Rico
for her funeral. The worst part of a casket is that you can’t hug your loved
one, one last time. Juncos, Puerto Rico is a small town. When there is a
funeral some people come because they think they may have known the person and
they do not want to pass up the opportunity to bid farewell to someone they may
have known. There were pleasant, sweet people that came. I really don’t
remember most of them. My viejita bella loved going to church and some people
from her congregation came and played instruments and sang hymns. She would
have loved that! I remember my mom saying how much she would have enjoyed it. I
am sure she did, while she looked down on us.
When I got to Puerto
Rico, there was still a shirt of hers hanging in the bathroom. The shirt still
smelled like her. I remember asking my mom if it was a perfume and she said
that was just her sent. I slept with that shirt every night. I smelled it and
cried myself to sleep. I hated myself for a long time. I resent that I was not
a better granddaughter. I hated myself for promised I made to her of visiting
and I did not kept for some “reason” or another. I hated myself for not calling
more often. I felt that she deserved better than me. I spoke to her Christmas
day before she passed but she was already not feeling well. Our last
conversation, she was not herself. I was excited to talk to her but she rushed
off the phone, she never did that. She loved to talk, tell stories, and laugh
the most beautiful heartfelt laugh that I have ever heard. I did not get to
hear that on December 25, 2006 or ever again after that day.
After her passing, I
do not recall how long after, I remember having a dream about her. I was hugging
her and I was crying. I cried so much and my tears were rolling off her
shoulder. She did not say anything in my dream.
I have since stopped
hating myself, but the feeling of regret has not left. I took time for granted.
I thought it was my friend, that it was on my side, but it wasn’t. I don’t
blame God for taking her home. She was so Amazing! He wanted her closer. But
having her for thirty two years of my life was not enough.
My abuela did not
drive. We all lived in the same town but in opposite sides. She would come from
Ceiba Norte to Valenciano to see us. I remember one day. I do not recall how
all I was. If I had to guess I would say maybe 6. She had come to visit us.
Taking the public transportation had to have taken her well over an hour to
reach us. The van dropped people off a ways away from our house so she had to
walk the difference. I remember her walking up our drive way. When my eyes
locked in on her I remember feeling like my heart was going to jump out of my
chest. Picture a child’s unbridled joy. That is what I felt. I ran and hugged
her. I do not remember the rest of that day, but I still remember that feeling.
I am almost forty and as I type this I can feel my heart, it remembers what it
felt that day.
Lydia Cruz was love,
and joy, and beauty. I miss her so much. I will always love her with every ounce
of my being!
I remember as couple
of days before the one year anniversary of her passing I prayed to God for
something happy to happen on that day. I need something wonderful to happen. My
husband and I began our adoption process in October 2007. The social worker
called me to set up our home visit. I set the appointment and told my husband.
As I was sharing the information I realized that we had scheduled the home
visit (needed in order to continue our adoption process) on January 7, 2008. I
remember crying and thanking God and Lydia for giving me something good on the
anniversary of her passing. Lydia also helped God pick out an amazing daughter
for us.
When I was little,
maybe 7 my dad took a picture of my great-grandmother, my grandmother, my mom,
and I. I wanted a picture like that with my daughter for as long as I can
remember. Unfortunately, that was not meant to be. But, Lydia did get to meet Amarilis
first.
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