Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Mourning Rises

Miles and miles apart, almost 2000 miles. But the fondness and love remained. Encouraged and encouraging is how I think of her.

When Madeline was young, she told me, "Draw her now as a baby. While she looks this way to you, draw her now. Do not wait."

We grew up miles and miles apart, many more than 2000 miles apart. She in Mexico City, me in San Jose. Two different countries, two different cultures. She fascinated me. So different, yet the same.

"Maybe you have grandma's artistic ability. Someone in our family should!" I tell her it's really in my brother.

The grief grips my belly and tears rise in the bottom of my eyes. They leak over and down my cheeks leaving tiny rivulets that I try to brush away lest someone will see. The little streams arrive at unexpected times.

Cousin, I miss you.

Juanita, March 10, 1952 – October 27, 2011
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