Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Remembering Abuelita



Written: 12/19/12 6:20PM

Walked over to UNCW sitting by the pond. I can’t even stand to be in the same room, let alone the same house as my own sister. Why? Resentment.

I can’t be ‘the strong one’ anymore. It’s killing me and I know that my soul is so tired and weary of bearing the weight of so many burdens that aren’t mine to bear.

I haven’t cried enough.
                  Haven’t felt enough.

How keenly, how deeply, gut wrenchingly aware I am of the extreme loss we have suffered at the death of my beloved Abuelita. In so many ways, she was the one I would turn to in times of distress and she always knew what to say – so much wisdom and virtue – lost to the abyss of murderous life draining cancer. I can’t see the point of any of it.

I can cry all day it won’t change anything. But crying is not the point in itself. It’s the release of emotion.

I haven’t given myself space.

Been so focused on the goal that I forgot to tend the wounds received along the way.

Grief is healthy.
                  Grief is natural…
I tell myself this time and again.

Doesn’t change the way I respond.

Still I am wooden while the infection within brews into a full fledged attack on the very core of my being and those around me, who love me most, feel the brunt of the agony and anger that results. I am my own worst enemy, not because of something I have done, but because of something I have failed to let myself do – GRIEVE.

Keenly feel the loss and its consequences.
                 
Accept that she is gone and never coming back.
                                   
Stop wishing that I had refused the last gift she tried to give me.

Known that those last times we spoke would be the final conversations.

So many things I wish I’d said.

Times I wish I’d helped her in the kitchen instead of watching TV.

I would have told her she meant the world 10,0000X over to me,

And that she was the very best Abuelita anyone could have dreamt of having.

Alas, regrets can only go so far and exacerbate the pain felt so deeply.

How can I come to terms with this grief and accept the loss?

Experts say time.
                 
I know there is some truth to this tale.

However, I propose another solution in addition to this that also begins with ‘T.’

TRAVEL.

                  To a land of which I’ve dreamt.

To my roots, the very heart of my Abuelita.

To the same square at the center of Cochabamba
Where she first caught sight of my Grandfather
To know those who loved and missed her so dearly
For decades from another continent
To hear the stories, of good and bad times
Of laughter and loss – and feel with them

Perhaps this accident that prevented me from seeing Papi will in the end
Be a financial pathway to heal from losing my dear Abuelita.

I can only hope and pray that someday,
I can look back and smile at the days we spent together instead of cry.

That will be the day when I know my heart is healed and I’ve accepted losing my Abuelita.