I don’t know what to say on such a day, in a life like this, with the way everything goes. So I’ll just be candid rather than attempt any kind of inspirational speech.
I have not ceased to cherish my time, brief as it may have been, with my family. Those I’ve called my main caregivers. They were gone too soon and calling what resulted from that ‘ironic’ would be the understatement of the millennium. I pondered for years and years why it had to be so. And the answers I’ve come to find are far from pleasant. Yet, that is what I was dealt. And I can only try to accept it.
If they could really watch over me right now, I bet they would be unspeakably angry and sad. I’d rather they wouldn't. I’ll keep deriving strength and more from my moments with them, as I continue to be grateful that, in the chaos of all cause and consequence, mine was a blip in history that allowed me to have that much. To grow up surrounded by such unbelievably loving people. And I wish that, if I eventually make it to heaven, I’ll get to see them again and catch up over tea or coffee. Maybe even their friends will join us. That would be nice.
I still hit lows in which the only consolation I have that works is recalling their existence. But I’d be lying if I said I am alone. Yes, I can still miss them terribly. They are irreplaceable. However, this orphan was, nonetheless, given a remarkable family down the line. And amidst all the injustice we face, I can hold on to and treasure that.
Grandmother Herminia, Uncle Alejandro, and Uncle Rafael, as well as the unforgettable Altagracia (a.k.a. Taty). That dear friend we'd often visit and spend hours with, talking about everything, who was also trusted and relied on as our family's lawyer, and fondly remembered as someone who always looked out for our best interests. May you rest in Peace. Undisturbed. How I’ve come to know you.
I will recreate our #30 home.
