Abuela

ByCarma Spence

abuela in the kitchenWritten the summer of 1984 in reaction to losing my Grandmother. I found out just before leaving for the airport to be an exchange student in England. By the time I returned 9 weeks later, everyone else had had a chance to attend the funeral, find closure and move on. I hadn’t. It took me years to finally gain the closure I needed to move on. But I still miss her.

Hands so gentle and kind
Sew out of love without being asked.
Scrumptious delights and
an aroma through the air.
Te amo, Abuela.
Te amo.

Why did you have to leave so soon?
There was so much I had to give you!
So many things to show you.
So many times I should have
told you how I felt, but didn’t.
It’s not fair, Grandma!
I love you.
I don’t want you to leave!
At least not now.

I wanted you to see my first child.
I wanted to see you hold it cooing
in your arms.
I wanted you to be proud of me.
I wanted to prove myself to you.

You never even got to see me go to college.
Why didn’t you stay and let me
at least try
to give your affections a reason?
Why did you have to die?
I love you.
Please don’t go.

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