Dear Grandma,
Today would’ve been your 89th birthday celebration. It’s been three long years since you’ve been gone and I miss having you for so many reasons. On the one hand it feels as though it’s been so fast. It seems like you’ve been gone longer. On the other hand it seems as though time is dragging because it seems like it was just last month when I visited Austin and came to your warm, cozy house and you made me fresh tortillas and told me to get a drink out of the fridge (in Espanol).
I miss your potato and egg tacos and your beans with carnita.
I miss how we’d sit and watch Univision (Spanish TV) and laugh at all the wuercos fregados running around on the funny game shows. I’d get all into the show and then look over at you in the rocker nodding off. You’d then catch me looking at you and sit up real quick and take a laugh at yourself for falling asleep.
Then there were those times where we’d walk across 7th Street to H-E-B for bread, coffee, bananas, “post toasties”, and whatever else you needed. You’d always let me buy anything I wanted, too. Usually it was a soda or some other sugary treat. Yes, even in my late twenties I could feel myself being spoiled by my “Granny Goodwish”.
I miss your little house on Gonzales St. I miss that I’ll never set foot in there again. I miss that creaky floor that sounds as you walk through the back to the bathroom. I miss playing drive-thru at the kitchen window and making mud pies on the side of the house when I was a kid.
I miss helping you pick and peel pecans from those beautiful, strong trees in your old yard. I wouldn’t do that with anyone else; I don’t care for pecans.
I miss your warm, soft, wrinkly brown hands rubbing mine and stroking my face.
I miss your smile; your contagious laughter. Once you started laughing and got on a roll, you just made me crack up. I’d be totally in tears and we’d be laughing at the silliest things on TV or anywhere else.
I miss you showing me all of your beautiful sewing projects and bags of fabrics and materials.
I miss you humming or whistling softly for no apparent reason all throughout your house. I find myself doing that all the time and I think of you.
I miss how you’d get all nervous looking when I’d attest to the fact that, yes, I am going to have to get back on an airplane to get back home. You’d remind me every time how you’d never been on a plane and that you were too scared to ever go on one. “Ai, Dios mio!” You’d make me say I was going to be careful and call you when I got back home so you’d know I was okay. I always did.
I miss your blessing, “Que Dios de bendiga, mija” as I’d leave your house.
I miss our tradition of waving and yelling “BYEEEEEEEEEEE” out the car window each and every time we pulled out of the driveway. It’s a tradition my kids have started with my parents now.
I miss that you never got to see my boys as they graced my life but I feel satisfied knowing you danced with them before I got to meet them.
I love you so much and I think of you so often. I pray to you all the time, mostly when I need some help with quieting down one or both of my kids and we’re driving. I pray that you’ll just make something happen in the backseat and quiet them down to give me some peace. You answer my prayers most all of the time. The other times I just think you’re making me work for it a little bit!
I’m honored that I carry your name but I know I’ll never measure up the Christian woman, mother, or grandmother that you were, and that’s okay.
I felt so loved by you and I feel so loved by God that He put me into your life, even if it was for just a short time. You’re an angel, Grandma.
