I sometimes feel uncomfortable when I have to grow. Sometimes I don’t but I think actually I still do but in that moment I’m okay with it.

There is a difference between being uncomfortable and feeling uncomfortable I think.

Feeling uncomfortable seems to come with some sort of realization – or even some judgement.

 

I don’t know really but I just wonder about words. I wonder about words all the time. Because I Love them. I love words a lot and I really love that we can use just one to mean a whole huge thing.

Like love.

Yesterday I visited my great grandmother and I finally, for the first time in my life I’d say – had a conscious realization of how nice it was that I let myself go there to simply relax. With no agenda, no time frame, nothing to do or be or say. Nothing to protect myself from. We had reached a point where we could just enjoy each other’s company.

 

I sat there while she recited story after story – chronologically so – it was so amazing to hear all of the things she had inside of her. The things she had lived. I was really affected by that. So much so that half way through her story I wanted so badly to take out my phone and voice record her so that I could keep it forever. I think next time I will.

I hope there will be a next time. I have to make more time for her. I told myself this. It doesn’t feel easy but it’s not easy because there are blocks inside of me that I’ve been living with. Blocks that have created a wall – I thought the wall was keeping everyone else out but it was actually keeping me in.

 

I sat there yesterday in awe of her. My mama. Mi Reina – my queen. That’s what I call her. The bond between us is something I don’t know if I will ever know again. But what I really hope, is that one day I might be able to offer someone in my family the feeling that she gives to me.

I didn’t let myself, but I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry so badly like I am crying now as I type this because I don’t want there to be a day without her. I just DONT. I Just don’t. And she is 93 today. So I get to that point. Sometimes I get anxiety in the middle of the night that she’s gone. And I didn’t know.

 

There will be a day … where that will happen. And yesterday, as I was cherishing every single second with her, I couldn’t help but want to scream and cry and yell out loud – because I keep trying to understand death.

It’s not something we can ever understand … is it.

No. I know that. But I can’t help myself and I am so overwhelmed recently. Since Uncle Tommy died I find myself wondering about it all the time. What happens when people go? Where do they go?

 

And then I have these moments – with special people in my life and I finally realize and let my heart crack open to HOW MUCH I LOVE THEM. And then it makes me so sad. Someday I will be without them.

Someday people will be without me. I don’t know what to do about this.

What do you do?

I have to let myself love them. And let them love me.

 

But I can’t give over to it all …. or can I ?

 

I sometimes wonder if I suffer more from not giving in or if I will suffer more from giving in. This is why I haven’t given in yet. Because what if it’s worse?

 

I constantly worry that I’m not doing enough, not doing what I should be, not fulfilling someone’s expectations of me.

But I don’t ask, I don’t check in, I don’t allow myself to give in to the curiosity. I just keep doing and doing and doing.

 

STOP.

 

Things come out when you stop. They start moving when you stop looking. Hide and seek.

I started writing poems. I love them. They drool from my fingertips like vanilla ice cream on a hot day. They melt.

Spilling out onto the page. I always write them by hand. It’s so much better. I wonder if I will be able to write an entire book by hand. That is what they used to do.

 

Mama told me yesterday – that when she was 25 she moved with my grandmother and great uncle, back to NYC where her parents were living at the time. She was unwell for a while but when she regained her health and strength what happened next blew me away.

 

A friend of hers came to her and said okay Angelita, now that you are well…it’s time for you to get a job I am going to take you to go get one. Her father gave her $10 and she went to go BUY A JOB. SHE BOUGHT A JOB FOR $10.

 

Amazing.

 

So this year, in the spirit of Mi Reina, universe I’d like to buy my dream job and life please. Will $10 still suffice?

Happy 2020 everyone.

 

Talk soon,

B-