Mi Abuelita,
When I heard that you were gone, all I could think of was your color.
You were always humming, always singing, always trilling some funny little notes with a twist of your hips. Cooking steaming pots of arroz con frijoles negroes and making Spanish tortillas, fried plantains by the plateful, filling your fridge with tiny plastic cups of flan and natilla.
You loved flowers and tended your lawn like it was the palace grounds - picking up every little stick and stone, mowing the grass until the day we finally begged you to stop, showing off leggy shoots of dicentra to anyone who passed by your little corner of the world. You would unabashedly watch your telenovelas and cover our eyes for the parts that were beyond our years.
If there is one regret that I have, it is that I didn’t ever know enough Spanish to tell you exactly how much I love you.
So here we are, with me pouring that love into English words, hoping that wherever you are now, language is no longer a boundary.
Abuela, your strength was a force. You were the most opinionated, sassy, loud, brave, and absolutely colorful person I have ever known. You were so proud of the family you created here and you gave up everything you knew in Cuba so that we could grow up knowing a different world.
On the days when I don’t feel quite bright enough, I will think of your strength and your color and remember that blood runs in my veins, too.
Thank you for being my grandma.
I am so, so honored to be your granddaughter.
Forever and always, until we meet again - I love you.
Your Lilita ♡
Aleida Ventura Freijoso Garcia
July 14, 1933 - June 28, 2023