9/1/13 ~RIP Netta~ 😘
In one of those almost perfect afternoons, one of my besties and I met up today for one of those shopping/ebrunching adventures..where it’s just the 2 of you and you can hit on every single topic from men to work to clothes to …grandmas? CrabbyFriend is struggling with finding a suitable caretaker for her aging grandma. Grandma who raised her when her parents were going through drama and mayhem as she tried to grow up. So now she is physically unable to handle the day-to-day and we tried to figure out how in the world you pick someone for a job that they could never EVER do like you would. It got me to thinking, what about my mamacita? And the generations of women that came before us.
I never got to meet my grannie and she never got to meet me. As a newbie to this country, and not yet a citizen, it would take my mother 6 months after I was born to get all the necessary clearances, stamps, rolled-eyes, and paperwork in place. My grandma died suddenly of a heart attack within 5. Mom’s paperwork was then expedited :-/.
To this day, mamacita has not gotten over that….I think she would have been grateful for a chance to take care of her over time vs. the sudden loss, but we don’t talk about it anymore….that will always remain openly painful for her.
And even though I tried to reassure her, and I have the stories to rely on, I sure wish I did have Molly. What would she have told me? Would she have me schpoiled? Would she be a disciplinarian? Would we have secrets? Would we laugh and giggle? Would she finally tell me why mom is so Type A? Show me the shoes with no sole that mom allegedly walked 5 miles to school in the snow in? (Because there is SO much snow in Trinidad you see). Was she there those times I cheated all those close calls? Was she happy? And is she proud?
I don’t know. But I know I love her.