Ophelia BM., mi Abuela
In nineteen twentyfour the american occupation of DR came to an end.
my grandmother was born in november.
lastnight
i became aware
the fault line of my past
crumbled the edge of this clif
at my heals
i dont understand the ecoes of those who came before
in the way that time runs about
sometime before yesterday
a day
mabye it was two
depending on which way your head is facing,
am i on the bottom
or top
of the
earth
she
was in the middle
soon
she
will be
closer
I dont have any concept of funerals
I have never been to one
I have lived too far from family
I cant even imagine the process
i dont have a home for my imagination to rest on
an image to carry
I dont recall her smell
she was so frail the last time i saw her
I remember blue blue blue blackflecked eyes
and the elvis lip that i inherited
(did you know?)
she wore bright red lipstick
and if her nails were painted
she wore red nailpolish
on thin small
soft hands
that shook
She had a crackely voice;
she cackled when she laughed
she liked to take appart and piece together radios, before,
and she could put the rubixcube into order
her grand daughter rarely came to visit,
and her daughter showed up when she was sick
but this time was too fast
they didnt have a phone
they were in yosimitie national park
I dont even know the catholic traditions of mouring that might offer comfort at least for the family or at least spell out appropriate behaviour, or alow me to drop words that might render comfort beyond my
oh no
really?
how can i help you?
I dont know what to say to my mother.
I lay on my bed in the dark; and breathe.
Ill send flowers in your name.
oh holy god
i wonder what they'll look like,
my intermediaries
My familly will only call me if they speak english. I dont have the vocabulary for this. They don't teach that to you in spanish class...
will they think
ay, que lastima, her ninieta didnt even come to celebrate the end of her life...
it was painless
he tried to say... he doesnt know,
it was a fever and she was so old
and her heart, of course,
she said.
spanish is the language of my childhood
my most comforting and solid vocabulary:
hola abuela
commo estas
bien
y tu?
feliz navidad, feliz coumpliaños, feliz año nuevo, te quiero mucho...
to the ritual 'when are you going to come visit me'
No sais, no sais abuela;;; oh
youll come when I die...
she would say
mami, benga a aqui
gagina chicken pojito hen, ventana window, y puerta door...
leche, agua, por favor, de nada
abuela,
te quiero mucho, mi amor
and more recently,
que dios te vendiga, mi amor
y tu
abuela
y tu
