My grandma passed away yesterday. She was my mother's mother. It was really painful to watch my mom, who is usually stubborn, proud and so strong to see her crumble into pieces, to watch not be able to stop crying , and overall to be able to feel her pain. It is really hard to connect with our parents sometimes, but in that moment, I knew exactly what she was going through and it was breaking my heart too.
My grandmother had a very gentle and compassionate soul, I never heard her complain about anything, she took everything around her as it was. I think it has to do with the fact that she married when she was only 14 years old. She had my mother when she was 15. Her husband, my grandfather, was very violent too. She had 7 children in total, my mother was the second child. And still, after all this, she always retained that softhearted personality that I will always remember her by. Her compassion lives through my own mother's heart and actions.
When we visited her she always made us feel so special. She always made sure there was something to eat for us, and if there wasn't, she would make us Arepas. Fried arepas, baked arepas, big and small arepas. And that's how I will remember her, everytime I eat an arepa I will remember when I was kid and she would make me a big round and flat arepa, she would add lots of butter and grated cheese around it then she would put a plate on top of my arepa and crush it, so that the mass, the cheese and the butter would miss and I could eat with my fingers, then lick my fingers. I think this is my fondest memory of her, because it was one thing no one ever did for me, except her.
Food is one way we use to recreate memories and traditions. My grandmother taught me that lesson. Anywhere my grandmother went she would cook, or at least made sure everyone was fed. thank you, grandma.
I also remember when I moved away from Caracas, how she would visit us, and spend a couple of weeks with us and then come back to Caracas. And no matter how much we would try to convince her to stay, she always wanted to return home (the stubbornness does exist in my family) She felt her place was with my other cousins, uncles, and aunts who were living with her at home. She knew she had a purpose in life, and I admire her for that. I can only hope to be like her as I age myself, or at least half of what she used to be.
I will always love and treasure you grandma,
Catira
