Sunday, August 27, 2006

I remember my grandma as a very strong person. She had to be. She was about 30 years old and pregnant with my mother when my grandfather was killed. She made it through life without ever re-marrying. She was over 80 years old when she passed away earlier this weekend.

My grandmother can be seen in pictures holding a wooden stick, ready to smack anyone who needed be smacked. At the age of nine I was afraid of many things, namely snakes and la chaneka. For her part, she would kill snakes with a stick and venture into the darkness without the slightest sign of fear.

But just as fearless as she was, she was also loved and trusted. She had tons of relatives and they would visit her from far away places. However, many people would call her Tia Bertha merely out of endearment and respect. It was hard to distinguish between her actual relatives and those who only treated her as if she were their own grandmother. Whether they were bound to her by blood and affection, or only by the latter, she would reciprocate their feelings all the same. Furthermore, she didn’t care to know how people led their lives; criminals would make of her a confidant, knowing that she would not rat them out to the authorities. This is perhaps one of the reasons why delinquents would steal from all stores in town, except her own.

I could go on writing about the many traits my grandmother possessed, but two of those I named above are the ones I want to make/keep my own. I want to go on through life without giving in to the human notion that I must have someone to love in order to live happy, and I want to stand proud and valiant in the face of adversity. If I die fighting I will die happy… I will then know for a fact that I took after my grandmother. May her legacy live on in me and the other men and women who cherished her and survived her.

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