My Grandmother

I think it's a fear every expat has... what do you do when a family member dies "back home"? When you don't go back, how do you feel connected to your family when you are on the other side of the world? I guess for me, among other things, I blog.

Memories of my grandmother:

As a child, walking up the street to visit her.
Watering her trees while she was away.
Playing cards.
Playing the player piano with her singing along.
Playing in her big backyard.
Going together to the LA County Fair, and afterward throwing up on her white bathroom rug.
Riding the bus together to Trinidad.
Eating clam chowder on the pier.
Walking on the beach.
Her helping me move into my apartment in Ukiah.
Taking walks together in Ukiah.
Talking about politics.
Her love of beautiful trees and the hills behind her house.

I always felt welcomed and happy to spend time with her, even as a young child. And I'm thankful our relationship continued into adulthood. But very sad that she had to suffer so long before her death. So although today I am sad, I am also happy that she has finally been released from her body and mind that no longer worked.

Tomorrow I will lay flowers on our shared Pacific Ocean at sunrise and remember her. I think I got my love of the ocean from her.


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