katMy grandmother passed away this morning at 5:15 am. The first time the phone rang I didn’t answer because I was sleepy, the second time I started to worry so I answered.
“Hi Katerin, this is Molly from hospice. I was calling to let you know Grandma passed away. I just declared it at 5:15 am,”
“Ohhh okay,” I breathed in deeply.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
*Silence* “No, it’s ok, I understand. I was preparing myself for this, I knew it was coming and I’m just relieved she’s not suffering anymore.”
I asked if she knew how she died, if it was painful. “No, it was peaceful, definitely.”
Molly asked me if it was okay if she went ahead and called the funeral home and said they’d likely come in a few hours. She said I could stop by to get her stuff.
I’d only gotten 4-5 hours of sleep last night. I woke up at 3:30 for some reason and thought about praying but went against that thought because I was just so tired. I fell asleep around 11 pm to 12 am last night. Yesterday was my mom’s birthday. I went to Chilli’s with my mom and then we went to the beach with my aunt’s family in the evening. I played with my little cousin and we talked about Jesus and funny things like why I don’t have a boyfriend. I said, “I’m too young and only God is our true love!”
“But you are big! You’re big-small. Like you’re big but you’re still little.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s kind of like God is your boyfriend right? But he’s not, but it’s like he is?” she giggled.
“Yeah, kinda!” God is my counterpart and at the right time he will bless me with a physical counterpart if it is his will.
“My mom said I can’t have a boyfriend until I’m your age, or Tati’s age (my sister is 25).”
“Good!” We both laughed and continued splashing each other, jumping over waves. Or as she called it “scaring the waves” as if waves could fear mere human beings lol. You can’t scare waves but you can surely ride them. We dug and made pools in the sand.
Then the sun started to set, much sooner than usual I think. That felt like the perfect time to go in the water. It was so warm like a hot tub and once you walked in far enough the waves stopped crashing harshly. To the northwest there was a pink, bluish cloud taking shape and to the southeast a yellow, white cloud forming. It was breathtaking.
My aunt brought up how my grandma loved her aguas de coco and I agreed. It was the first time we talked about my grandma today, though I had planned to visit her Saturday, the following day.
I think my grandma waited to pass until she could see that I would be ok; that I would be at peace and happy; that I understood the better place for her to go would be Heaven. I remember on Monday I talked to her and she was very confused, mostly speaking incoherences. Then, all of a sudden out of nowhere I heard her moan, “Pobrecita mi nina.”
I was shocked. Did she really say what I think she said? I asked her to repeat it but she did not.
Then she reached out her hand to me. Tears started pouring out of my eyes at that moment due to her previous words. It was as if her soul was expressing that she understood my pain and that she was worried about me. I said, “Abuela, tu no tienes que preocuparte. Yo no soy pobrecita. Todo va a estar bien. Yo voy a estar bien y tú vas a ir al cielo.” She watched me as I cried and though she did not say a word, her face changed to look at me with compassion. Her eyes watched me with pity. She said, “Please hold my hand,” and so I did. This is a moment I will always remember. I prayed to let her go and for her to feel it was ok for her to pass away. I wanted her to feel that I would be able to overcome her death and all this grief.
That day before I left my grandmother’s roommate asked me if I could throw away the dead flowers in the vase because housekeeping could not throw them away, only the family member. I brought those flowers two weeks ago the day after my grandmother arrived at the nursing home. She said they were pretty. I miss how she smiled when she saw them. Now the flowers were almost completely dead. When I brought them I had a feeling my grandma would pass when the flowers did.
…
This morning before I left to go get my grandma’s stuff from the funeral home my mom woke up and I told her. She said last night she woke up in the middle of the night and thought about my grandma. She said sometimes people who die come to despedirse right before they leave. She said she also heard footsteps, but it’s not the first time she’s heard footsteps. I reassured her it wasn’t my gma but likely just the A/C.
Either way I think she was right about my grandma coming to say goodbye. I happened to wake up at 3:30 am. Yesterday evening my aunt was thinking about her, and last night my grandma’s friend called me. Two of the people who came to say goodbye to my grandma this morning at the nursing home also said they felt something odd.
It was Dora, who crossed the border with my grandma back in the day, and Christina who my grandma cared for when she was a child and teenager.
Christina was already there when I got there, she left her kids outside the door playing on their iPads. When I walked in she was crying and she hugged me. She stepped away so I could see my grandma.
They had laid her back and put a towel around her neck perhaps to hold her head. She stood there with her eyes closed, a peaceful look on her face, almost as if she was smiling.
Chrstina told me she saw a tiktok that says that when people die if they have a frown on their face or a painful look it means they died in pain. I think my grandma died in a peaceful way. There was a sereneness to her. It was reassuring. I touched her and she was cold. No pulse, no movement, no breathing.
We cried and prayed. They shared their stories about her. It was clear my grandma suffered so much to get here to the U.S., that she went through a lot as she lived here, but that she always had a humorous, lighthearted character through it all. God blessed her so much. God blessed me too through her sacrifices. He brought us to this nation and to Jesus.
It was reassuring and so comforting that I wasn’t physically alone. Surely Jesus was there with us.
The funeral home came to pick her up at that moment and my friends who are catholic persinaron the room. They hugged me and said we will always be family and if I need anything they would be there for me.
It meant the world to me. We stood outside of the nursing home talking for a while. It was 9 am or so, the sun shone so bright and beautiful, the flowers looked beautiful.
That was pretty much it. Afterwards, I went to a coffee shop to write. A nice, retired man struck up a conversation with me and that helped.
I trust that my grandmother is in Heaven. I do feel sad because I will miss her but I know this is not goodbye forever. We will always have an unbreakable bond. Her sacrifices and stories I will always carry with me and I will always love her.
That night my mother invited some family and friends over to have dinner and share some cake for her birthday. As we stood there singing Las Mananitas for my mom, I thought about my grandma. It was as if we were singing for her.
The lyrics are about honoring a loved one’s birthday.
“Estas son las mañanitas
Que cantaba el Rey David
Y hoy como es día de tu santo
Te las cantamos a ti
Despierta mi bien despierta
Mira que ya amaneció
Ya los pajarillos cantan
La luna ya se metió
Que linda está la mañana
En que vengo a saludarte
Venimos todos con gusto
Y placer a felicitarte
El día en que tú naciste
Nacieron todas las flores
En la pila del bautismo
Cantaron los ruiseñores
Ya viene amaneciendo
Ya la luz del día nos dió
Levántate de mañana
Mira que ya amaneció”
It felt like we were singing about my grandmother’s rebirth in Heaven. The sun had already set that night, just like the sun of my grandmother’s physical life had set.
The melody and the lyrics brought to mind images of the sun rising. It was as if we were singing about her shining spirit. Her birth day in Heaven.
The candles shone on my mother’s face as she blew them out and I had a feeling I knew what she wished for. I was grateful for this moment and those who are still with me. God has blessed us with more days to live so we can keep transforming ourselves to spiritual beings who live as His body everyday.
I feel peace knowing my grandma is no longer suffering. This season of grief will pass. One day I will wake up with a little less ache in my heart and an unshakeable certainty that though we will all face death (painful or painless) it is not a life stage to fear or receive sorrowfully, but rather joyfully for it is the moment our spirits permanently transition to Heaven- the greatest place anyone can go.
One day good memories of my grandma will be more prevalent in my mind than the scary or painful ones. One day I will understand everything. The grief and joy will peacefully coexist in my being.
I will do my very best here on earth until my dying breath and then we will meet again.
We will all overcome the second death together, until the end.
