My mother passed away the morning of February 7, 2022 after a long battle with cancer. She was only 22 years older than me.

I don’t have an obituary to share like we do in the states but there hasn’t been a shortage of online tributes to her name. My siblings and extended family have pour their hearts out sharing their love, their loss and the ways she touched their lives.

I haven’t been able to find the words to share with you. I am grateful for all the forms of support and kindness you all have shared.

My parents married in the their early 20’s, they had 6 children, they had 9 grandkids and 3 great-grandchildren; they were married for almost 54 years. Mami checked all the stereotypes a role of a mother comprises on regards to raising a family but aside from all of that she fashioned all of our clothes as kids and many more over the years. Sewing was her art, her therapy, she put her soul on that machine.

In the same way my brother plays the guitar by ear or my sisters transform paper into art or my brothers and father fix cars; she converted fabric into masterpieces for us and the people in the barrio to wear. Sewing was a talent she never stopped using.

Mami had rheumatoid arthritis for years. Her fingers were curved making it difficult to cut the fabric and stitch it, but that didn’t stop her. At the beginning of the pandemic when we couldn’t find masks on the shelves for her to wear; she sat on that sewing machine to make masks, not for herself but to donate to other’s.

Last time I was here we stopped at the fabric store, she ended up making 2 bags for me to carry my computer and a number of pieces to wear. She sat at that machine, hit the pedal like it was Indy 500. The sound of the sewing foot along with the speed -taca-taca-taca-taca - was her medicine. It kept her smiling and engaged all her senses.

She was having lapses in memory, first the changes were so subtle, a simple look of displacement or confusion. Then telling old stories from her childhood she had never shared. Then the repetitive questions. All part of the process. But one day she sat in front of her sewing machine, she stared at it and started to cry like a little girl when her toy is lost. She had forgotten how to get the machine going.

It was the moment reality set in. She eventually was at it again but that moment was truly devastating. I don’t know when the sewing machine made the last trip but I am grateful she used her talent for as long as she was able and that it was a venue for her to connect with her inner self.

In her last few days mami was in pain, her elbow hurt, her shoulder hurt and her hands needed to be massaged and stretched often. Papi was at her side constantly!

Thorough out her life, she chanted the rosary multiple times a days. She was devoted to her faith and to her family. When she asked why this was happening to her I told her the truth. I don’t know why! I reminded her that she was the expert on that subject; she responded; “If Christ could carried that cross and wear a crown of thorns; I can manage this pain!” I simply replied affirming her expertise. I wish I had a few ounces of her faith!

Next day she went into a deep sleep, the second day she reacted to religious songs my siblings sung and to the rosary. She hold on to papi with her right hand while my brother played the guitar and the rest of us serenade her.

On her last morning she looked peaceful, without pain. She held on to ensure papi had returned to his meal schedule, to make sure that we were attending to his knee pain; all she asked of us was to not leave him alone and to care for the love of her life. We knew that even on her deep sleep she could hear and feel us.

Her blue eyes never opened again. On Monday, she took a few deep breaths and exhaled each of them. She hold on the longest on the last one and with all the force left in her she exhale. Her body finally released her. It was peaceful, quiet, beautiful! I am fortunate to have shared that moment with her, so very grateful.

I am not going to miss my mother just like I don’t miss hers; grandma has never left my side since her transition and am sure nor will mami.

Madre! Rest in Peace! Rejoice the reunion with your loving parents abuelo Jenaro and abuela Pupa as well as with your sister Madrina Meri, Jose and all of those welcoming you en la marquesina de la eternidad. I may not possess your deep faith but I carry the strength and resilience your parents instilled in you. I am proud to be part of this tribe.

This will be a new adventure a new life form for you and for all of us to share.

Love you Madre! compartir. ¡Te amo Madre!