As my grandmother is laid to rest, I remember a piece of music that reminds me of her. This piece represents a journey that has been undertaken, but how a new one arises in the ascent to heaven. It represents a Golden Sun that will be waiting for my grandmother; a sign that she is going to a place where she will be happy. My grandmother was a wonderful woman; she gave me lots of laughs, smiles and joy. May she take this piece with her on her journey, and may we remember all the memories she has given us.

I learned a lot from Abuela.

First, when playing Rummikub, you only have two minutes per turn. That's it. Anyone who played with her remembers that kitchen timer she would set to make sure you didn't go over time.  No matter how old or how cute, you get two minutes.  That was fairness.  And a reminder not to play with her if you couldn't handle it.

Second, it wasn't easy.  It was not easy.  She said that a lot.  And it wasn't easy, not her childhood, nor when she migrated to New York, nor when she got married and raised her children, nor when she worked in the city, nor the time she spent caring for Abuelo.  It was not easy.  "And I'm still here,"  she said.  Life is not easy, but Abuela taught me that anything can be survived, and you can thrive, too, laugh, have a loving family, that there are bad times, but good times, too.  It was not easy.

Third, she taught me about being in service to others.  She worked in New York City, helping those who needed it most.  Her work with families inspires the work I do now.  I didn't know that I was carrying on her legacy when I started my work in social services, but I am so humbled to be her granddaughter continuing the work she was so proud of.  It is in my blood, the instinct to help.  That comes from her.

Fourth, I learned about love from her. Not just love of family, love of community and love of culture, but romantic love.  I learned what a 50 year marriage looked like, learned what it looked like when two people shared a deep connection, learned what I hoped for in my own life.  Their love taught me what is possible.  I am so happy that she is at peace and finally together with her love.

We are here to say goodbye, to remember the beautiful legacy she leaves behind.  Maybe the lessons she taught you are different, but we all have something to learn from her amazing life.  She may be gone, but she will never be forgotten.

And remember, you only have two minutes for your turn -- be ready and make it count.

This is an introduction to the homage video, Atabey, that was presented during the viewing of Grandma on July 14, 2021. 
Part 2

 I remember going out to play in the ocean and there was a storm rolling in, irresponsibly staying out there a little too long, and getting tossed under the water by a large wave. I remember thinking that if I came back and told Grandma about it, she’d lay into me pretty hard. She loved firmly like that. But boy did she love. She kind of knew any ways... I remember walking back into the casita and she gave me this slightly smiling, slightly smirking look like “yeah, you should have been in sooner with that storm coming”. But I could tell she was lovingly thankful I was back home.

The piece is also heavily rooted in the many magical nights I spent with them in the campo, riding in the back of that little white suzuki truck. They would stop at this one roadside shop halfway through the trip to pick up pepperoni bread. Grandma knew the road was windy and that chewing something would help me be able to take my mind off of the sometimes nauseating motion. We would sit on the back of that little casita and listen to the coquis chirp. Play dominoes. Watch little geckos crawl by. It was magic. I cherish those memories with them, and they are forever part of me.

This video is a way of infusing those memories with the spirit of conversations I had with my parents about their parents. Of exploring what it means to have these memories and dreams of my family, of that island and our culture. And the ending of it seems so fitting for Grandma’s journey, for her and Grandpa, sitting in the countryside, on the porch of their little casita, waiting for us all to come home amongst the spirits.


This is an introduction to the homage video, Atabey,  that was presented during the viewing of Grandma on July 14, 2021. 
Part 1
When Grandma Paquita became  ill after Grandpa Ralph’s passing, it really hit me that the precious opportunity to communicate with my grandparents and learn about their lives and experiences wasn’t really possible anymore, at least not in a direct way. It was a sobering reminder that time with loved ones is priceless, and that there is so much about my family and ancestors that I don’t know. I started talking with my mom and dad about their past experiences, their childhood, their spiritual beliefs, and those of their parents. I wanted to learn about all of those hidden components that make me, me. And in doing so, I got a glimpse into the challenges, the sacrifices, the gifts that my grandparents experienced and offered to their children and their children’s children. Many things started to become clear: my experiences of feeling like I was communicating with Grandpa Ralph or my Grandma Gloria while in my dreams... that was no coincidence. It turns out there’s a generational history of that type of spiritual connection. 

I started putting together this piece, Atabey, reflecting on that spiritual and cultural history that I shared with my parents and grandparents. 

Message to Abuela -Part 2:

While Abuela always greeted me with kindness, there was always a sternness to her. I think some of you can relate when I say Abuela... was Abuela. She could be stubborn and strict, especially with other adults. But she also always made us lunch and cooked us dinner. She helped teach us how to play Rummikub, and we played many games with her both at their apartment and at the campo.
I never really had any heart-to-heart conversations with Abuela. She kept personal matters to herself, and I think one of the only times I saw her cry was at Abuelo's funeral. She was a strong woman who kept her private life and thoughts close. I do remember her laughing, from time to time. She really did seem to love being around family. Maybe that was the reason she worked so hard to ensure that those big family gatherings in the campo happened.
So I know Abuela loved her family, and that she loved us. She may not have been vocal about her feelings, but through her actions she showed us how much she cared. I know how dearly she loved her husband. I also know that she was suffering after Abuelo died. She wanted so much to see him again. I wish she had opened herself up more to those around her, that she had found a way to take

 down her walls and let others in.
I don't judge her for that. I don't even blame her. Grief is strong, and it can be crippling.
I love you, Abuela. You welcomed us into your home, and you let us experience more than we could have otherwise. You and Abuelo helped me fall in love with the island that was my home - that still is a home to me, in my heart. I am forever grateful to you for that.
I sincerely hope that you've found Abuelo in the next life, and that you are happy. I love you, and I miss you.
Goodbye, Abuela. Please find peace, and happiness, in the next life. 

Message to Abuela - Part 1

 Abuela has passed.
These are words I have been expecting for a while now. Even so, they felt firmly stuck in the future. I knew these words existed ahead of me, but I preferred to keep them there. I preferred to push back the dread of hearing them.
I finally read those words over a week ago. Maybe it was longer. Time feels more fluid than it did before 2020. I have a feeling many of you can relate.
Abuela has been a part of my life for almost as far back as I can remember. While I was growing up, we often made the journey to her and Abuelo's house in the campo. It was so different from any other car ride. It felt like an adventure, especially back when we had to cross a river to get there. We hugged and kissed when we arrived, as Puerto Ricans usually do, and Abuela and Abuelo were both so happy to see us.
One of the things I remember most about the campo were the parties. What grand parties they were! Family get-togethers that sprawled from the first house past the gate, through all the other houses up the hills, and right up to Abuela and Abuelo's house. There was so much great food, and Abuela put out the Manchego cheese and morcilla for these occasions. There was live music and dancing, catching up with our cousins, sliding on carboard sleds down grassy hills; all of it culminated in a massive and fantastic dinner. Listening to those live bands and sharing traditional Puerto Rican food were some of the earliest ways I experienced our culture.
I appreciate every moment I spent in that beautiful countryside, even if it was TOO darn hot sometimes - that's just part of the Puerto Rican experience. I can understand why Tio Ralph wanted to make sure the house was repaired and usable. Being able to spend time on that quiet, verdant, and VERY steep peak, surrounded by hills and grazing cows, is a treasure.


Abuela, I know your spirit is peaceful and free. Thank you for sharing your time and love with me as I was growing up. Thank you for sharing your love of the land, your love of our people and country. Because of these experiences, I know who I am and I understand my heritage. You taught me so much. Your legacy lives on in your grandchildren and we carry it with us wherever we go. The love you shared I extend forward. I live each day to not let it go to waste.

I'll never forget all of the endless nights of competitive Rummikub with you and the family when we were all together. Or the dog treat prank you pulled on me... just because it smells like bacon doesn't mean it tastes like it! Or the nights at the campo with you and Grandpa playing board games long into the night. These are the memories I'll hold onto always.

I love you Grandma, you will be forever loved and remembered. 

-Eric

OBITUARIO

Frances Torres

29 enero, 1931 – 7 julio, 2021

Funeraria y Columbario Del Angel Buxeda

Muestre su apoyo

Comparta Un Recuerdo

Comparta
Un Obituario

Obtenga actualizaciones

Servicios