Abuelita these past ten years I got to know you in a different way. And it was a unique experience I will always treasure.
Abuelita…Ten years ago I did not understand what happened to you, all I knew was that you were sick and you would be living with us. I did not know it would change my life forever.
It was then…
Our roles reversed a bit. I remember at one time you took care of me. I knew it was my turn to take care of you. You once fed me, clothed me and tucked me in. But for the past years it has been me who has fed you, picked out clothes for you to wear, and have tucked you into bed.
Abuelita I will remember your funny side, the funny comments you were able to communicate at times; and how you favored one our dogs more than the other. How you would use your cane to run off Anna, but you would leave Bonita alone. Or even those moments were you hit dad because he got on your nerves.
Abuelita , I made some sacrifices for you but I did not mind. I would do it all over again. Just to know that you were here.
Abuelita thank you for showing me how much you loved your children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. You see you did not have to use words, your eyes and smile told me how you felt. But I knew from your little comments of la Niña, or eras bonita, or you que Chula reassured me you still knew.
Every time you saw pictures of familiar faces -your eyes would light up and your smile was wide as can be. You taught me that sometimes we don’t need words to communicate, sometimes our eyes and smile communicate much more.
Abuelita, you taught me what the word tradition truly meant, every Christmas going over for the Acostada, and our family teach us what you taught them when they where small.
Abuelita, going through your photo albums I found how proud you where of all us, you kept graduation announcements, newspaper clippings, wedding invitations, and pictures of milestones that occurred in all of our lives.
Abuelita, although it has been hard, this past month, I am glad that you are at peace. You will always remain in our memories, our thoughts and laughter and most importantly our hearts forever. Te amo, mucho abuelita.
I think the hardest thing is coming home and seeing you aren’t here. You were apart of the household for ten years, and now your just gone…I know you’re not gone but it’s weird not having you here. Passing by your room and it’s empty knowing you’re not there..I think that’s why I’m hesitant to sleep in my room. I know you would have been very estactic to have everyone there at your house, and have baby Sebastian you would love his laughs abuelita…te amo.
I distance myself from the people who matter.
I am bad with people.
I am good at being alone.
But I hate being lonely.