Saturday, April 16, 2016, at 9:15
am, Pacific Standard Time, my grandmother, my mother’s mother, took her last
breath in this realm. While we knew this
had been coming for some time, the sting of a final goodbye still hurts.
Her pain and suffering has come to
an end. No matter what your belief, or
hers for that matter, I can take some comfort in that fact. Yes I should be in great pain, yes I should
hurt as my family hurts, yes I should break down and cry, and I may yet still
do so, but as of right now I am numb.
My grandmother, one of the
strongest people I ever met, had a good run.
Actually she had a great run
and no one can ever dispute that fact.
To say she left a legacy in the wake of her great wave in this life is
an understatement.
It’s amazing how such a small woman
has literally touched hundreds of lives.
From her spirit has spawned numerous souls and ways of lives that her
spirit will truly live on forever, so long as those of us who loved her pass on
what she has taught us.
You only need to look at any of her
great grandchildren to know this has come to be. The passions she possessed are evident in their
personalities and will be passed on to the next generation to come.
A love for the written word. While most in this generation will not read
anything that is not on social media, for those of us connected to her, this is
not so. We will always read for fun, for
information, for the mere fact that it was written down and needs to be read by
someone. Electronic or physical, we will
always read something.
Homemade tortillas. Just the mention of the words “homemade tortillas”
will bring found memories of this little lady standing at the kitchen counter,
rolling masa, slapping it from hand to hand before throwing it on hot metal,
cooking it.
It became a cat and mouse game,
trying to steal one as soon as it came off the stove. It was a miracle that any tortillas even made
it to the dinner table at all. She
always made extra masa because she would allow us one, otherwise we would eat
them faster than she could make them.
A love of sports. While I’m not one to watch sports on
television, if I’m there live, you will see a different side of me. Since we lived in a large city, when I was
little my mother use to take my little brother and myself to the major league baseball
games. Not until I turned 12 did I
understand why this was such an important thing for her, it was a lesson she
learned from her mother.
Coming from a small town in
Northern California, our baseball team was a minor league team but they were
our team and we needed to support them.
That was a lesson I learned the first time she took me to a baseball
game.
It’s a lesson I passed on to my
child when we went to minor league hockey games. While people always told me that they didn’t
count, they weren’t major league, I didn’t care as I heard my grandmother’s
words in my heart. I would repeat them
before talking trash to the other team.
It was the only time trash talking was accepted and allowed.
The same applied to football and
wrestling. You could not take the trash
talk personal and you could only trash talk as long as you could take it in
return. It was a way to cut loose, have
fun, and release stress in a healthy way.
While she had fun, and taught us to
have fun, she also had her serious side.
You were never too old to get a slap upside the head if nothing else, or
a scolding. She didn’t stand for
disrespectfulness and always spoke
her mind. As she got older she slowed
down in what discipline she dished out but the last time I seen her, there was
still discipline to be dished out.
Taking personal responsibility was something she believed in and made
sure we all knew it.
I am glad her suffering is finally
over. I know the past few days have been
hard for everyone to see but I like to think her last days of suffering was to spare
certain people she loved from further suffering. While April 16th will always be a
dark day for all of us who loved her, the 13th, 14th, and
15th are dates that should have joy for three of us.
My birthday is on the 13th,
my aunt, her daughter, was born on the 14th, and my older sister was
born on the 15th. My personal
feelings was that if she was to pass on one of our birthdays we would never
really be able to celebrate it the way she use to celebrate it for us. I was told she is waiting for something,
because she was supposed to last only a few hours more and it’s been three days
now. That was her final act of love, her
strength wouldn’t allow her to cause us further pain.
I know this may sound selfish but
it’s what I believe. Now she could pass
on, in peace, and she did. I will love
her with all my heart for she helped to raise me, even from a far. She helped shaped me into the man I am. She gave me many life lessons, some painful,
but all were wielded with a gentle hand of love.
To honor her legacy I will pass on
what I have learned and I know it will be passed on to my grandchildren. They will learn great lessons that will span
over more generations than they can imagine from a strong powerful woman they
will never know.