My eyes are invaded by tears, and that lump in my throat seems to follow me everywhere I go, I have questioned how long this feeling will be socially acceptable, because to me the flooding of emotion doesn't seem like it will ever leave my body. My heart keeps pumping amidst the broken and hollow crevices that have been left, and memories pop out of no where, sometimes making me feel like I am in those moments again.
A few weeks ago we celebrated my grandmothers 74th birthday, we would always have really deep conversations about life, that day was no different, I said to her Milita, what wish are you going to make for your birthday? and she said to me, I want you all to be happy, I want your dreams to come true, and I want you to sing like the most beautiful bird I've ever heard. My abuelita had this notion that I could sing like a bird, and she would always make me sing silly songs with her, like rancheras (haha)
Our family for so long revolved around the dinner table and around the woman with open arms and countless number of guests. I have realized that she gave me my first platform, with people coming and going, strangers, new friends, old friends, family- my grandma's house was always full of interesting and passionate people. I always wanted to have conversations with the adults and ask outrageous questions that many times my grandma encouraged. She never once told me, these are conversations for adults, she liked to hear me with my grand crazy dreams and ideas and would often help me develop them. The trust and friendship we had was not developed it was born in me, she would always remind everyone that because of me one of her dreams had come true; at age 7, I was testing her on the provinces of Canada and other historical facts so that she could become a Canadian citizen, the day she got her citizenship she gave me her little Canadian pin, and said "for my teacher' in her broken English.
The spot this amazing woman has held in my heart, has always made it swell with joy, with constant laughter and amazement. I have always spoken very proudly about my Milita, she truly lived up to her name Milagro (miracle), constantly reminding everyone around her that our journey's were connected miracles and that the tremendous love she shared was because she felt God's presence as she opened her heart each time. My grandma suffered a lot in her life, she went through a tough marriage, losing her son, fleeing from war, sleeping on the floor for months as a refugee in Costa Rica and finally a battle with her health. But not once did she ever say I am tired of fighting, even though her life had been inundated by war and violence, the peace she carried and shared was a testament that true peace is attainable. The fullness of God's grace carried her through it all, and she never ceased to give testimony of God's great love.
A week after my abuelita's birthday, she went Home to be with the Father. But she decided that her departure would be one last dinner party, hundreds showed up, to show love and respect for the woman that had opened her arms wide, to new-comers, to strangers and family every day of her life. When my grandma came to Canada, she became a mother for many, always having an extra room in her house for people that didn't have a place to stay or eat, she lived out the Gospel and when she wished for us to be happy on her birthday, she meant the fullness of happiness in loving, serving, dreaming and courageously walking the way she did.
What gives me joy is the freedom she is dancing in right now, I have a journal full of stories she shared with me, during her many stays at the hospital, we would sit on the bed and as she spoke I wrote. If my love for her can be explained in word, it would be 'thank you', I live in constant gratitude for everything she ever did, say or teach me. My heart is not hollow, its just hurting at the moment, I miss her at every moment, at home, at my uncles house where she lived, when I sing, when I write. A couple of weeks before my abuelita passed away, we were talking about my trip to Tanzania, she was always intrigued by the country and its people and would always say "I want to see the pictures again, the people look so happy- we should go together". I promised her we would go together. My abuelita pushed me to the limits of my fears, and often challenged me to run harder for the things I believed in. The wisdom that our grandparents have, are miracles, seek out your grandparents, spend time with them, get to know them- the relationships you can develop will change you.
Set the dinner table today and always have a space set for a stranger- love, serve, be a witness. Our journey's are connected miracles.
Thank you Father for my Miracle, she was the most beautiful gift I could have ever asked for, grateful others were able to know your Love through her as well.
