Abuela

These days were meant for silence. Like a retreat for the soul I cried hard with out abandon. As my family held its breath for my grandmother to recover from surgery I held mine too. I could not be there with my dad to help his worry lines from deepening. Or hang out with my sisters and recount stories of abuela en el caserio. Meet primos I haven't met yet or look at old pictures together. 

"Te recuerdas esa vez el el yunque?"

"Mira que flaquita"

"Oye, quien es esa?"

"Nunca he visto este retrato..."

After her passing I can breathe a little better and recount in my own way.

There is a lot I wished to have learned.

She could hug the life out of you and awaken you from the inside out. Abrazos apretao... especially if you are not ready for it are just the best.

There is a lot I wished I could have asked.

She survived six of her kids funerals... six. As my sister calls her "luchadora, fuerte, siempre tan viva con alegria". A true fighter, strong and always happy... and the humblest person I have ever known.

I wished I could have spent more time.

I always adored the way she said my father's name ... "Rael" with a strong R like the sound your get from scraping pegao from the bottom of the rice pot. Said with such love and devotion.

I wished I was there.

No matter if you were passing through she would always offer you food, even if it were her last meal.
"Entra mamita, come algo" always.

Mostly I wished i could have said bye.

Right now I feel like this old boat marooned in the middle of nowhere, making up my own story and pick up the pieces from clues left behind. I will be making my journey back to my roots, a la isla, to pick up some more pieces and learn some more stories.

Cunetame mi familia...
Bendición abuela que descanses en paz

**All pictures taken at Oatland Island Wildlife Center.**