I've just needed a few days to not think, even though that's the first thing I do, think. And then cry. These past few days I've been...rough to say the least. I almost thought to not write about this but I thought maybe this would help.
Writing for me is like breathing. It helps me relax when I write down the words that sometimes weigh me down. And at the end of the day, I am a real person with a real life. And my moments are not all happy. And that's ok. Struggles and pain (along with the wonderfully joyous moments), believe or not, makes you the person you are. It shapes and molds you, and you learn that much more about yourself.
This past weekend was like any other typically weekend. Except that on Sunday morning (2am) P wakes me from my sleep, yelling for help. He is face down on the bed and in intense pain. He has dislocated his shoulder again...this would make it the 4th time. I still haven't figured out how to "pop" it back in and we now have to go to the ER again for the second time in 2 weeks. I hate feeling so helpless and watching someone you love in so much pain is heart wreaching. We are in the ER by 2:30am and out by 7am.
------No sleep------
Fortunately for me I have pretty great bosses,who are more than understanding and I get the day off to recover. After some light breakfast, we sleep for about 4 hours, but for some reason or another both P and my cell phone are ringing off the hook. It's either a text or a call, for numerous reasons. We finally get up, decide to run some errands. Take advantage of the day off - Pharmacy, police station (pay some tickets), mva, eat, and finally back home. And yet sleep has not succumb me and I am wide awake.
10:30pm, my mother calls me...twice. This isn't typical of my mother. She has to get up way early in the morning to get to work, so she is usually asleep by that time.
I answer the phone and she doesn't say anything right away. I can hear her try to take a breath, but I hear her tears.....my heart stops....I hate these calls the most. Her mother, my grandmother has passed away.
The next few minutes were a blur. I can remember telling her I'm so sorry and Oh mom. And nothing. Just tears. P asks me what's wrong, but the words can't and won't come out. I don't want to have to say it. The next sleepless hours are me on the phone with multiple family members and online searching and booking a flight for my mom to El Salvador. The pain for my grandmother's death, my mother's loss, and my family's pain is overbearing...and too much.
Oh como me pesa mi alma ---- Oh, my heart/soul is heavy.
My abuelita Alicia was really our family's last elder and we view her as our monarch, the glue that held us together. The one thing that gives me some peace and helps me to accept the truth is that she no longer has to hold onto her loss and pain. Within the past 3-4 years my grandmother as lost her husband, her mother, sister and brother. I know that now she can join them and not have to endure the pain of loss.
She was loving, caring, worried way too much sometimes, appreciative and thankful, beautiful and thought everyone else was too. She never like to see the ugly in people and always tried to find some good. She always acted surprised even if she already knew. She never forgot a name; she had 9 (living) children, about 20 grandchildren, and about 9 great grandchildren. She has truly left
us as her legacy.
But most of all she was strong. She lived through many ordeals in her life and handled them with tears, grace, and strength. And even through she was older, she could still catch roosters and chickens with her own hands like as if she were in her 20's.
I know that me and my family will miss her greatly. But a little of her is in all of us. She was a major part of our lives and I will try to continue her legacy and her silent wish for our family to be and stay together.
Te quiero mucho abuela y te vamos extranar mucho. Pero hoy descansa.
