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Hi.

Welcome to my blog. I document my adventures in life. 

For my abuelos.

I know that I have been beyond blessed for multiple reasons.

I’ve had many conversations with people in my life who have told me that they either never met their grandparents, or were only close to one side, or weren’t close to them at all. Some people only get 1 grandparent. Well, I got all 4.

My parents really did an excellent job of nurturing the relationships me and my siblings had with all of our grandparents. My dad’s parents, were the primary babysitters while we were young girls, and my mom’s parents, were where we ate the most amazing food, and enjoyed our time with a slew of cousins, aunts, and uncles. All 4 of these humans played a role in my life and for that, I know, I am truly blessed. Knowing and loving the parents of my parents has provided me with an insight into not only my family, but also a vastly different generational perspective recounted to me by people who lived through spectacular situations.

To the untrained eye these two groups of parents could not be more different. One, gave a person a very country-vibe, if they’d been American, they’d be from the South. They were just comfortable getting dirty, they’d welcome everyone into their home for a great meal, they could grow any kind of flower or crops they desired, proficient in raising both children and animals. The other set, if they were American, well they’d be more New England or city kind of people. They appreciated a faster pace of life, enjoyed more refined things and were very aware of societal etiquette and conduct. Again, to the untrained eye.

To me… these 4 humans were some of the coolest people I’d ever meet.

They were intelligent, hard-working, funny, a little mean, they loved their families well, they displayed an unquenchable desire to live and experience everything this life had to offer. I never doubted, not for a second, that my grandparents loved me and loved their kids (my parents).

I guess a sign that one is getting old is when we start loosing that generation. My dad’s dad was the first grandparent I ever had to say goodbye to. I think it was early 2001 when he passed, he got to meet 2 of his great-grandchildren and honestly, I still miss him. I’ve thought about him each time I brought a child into this world. I’ve thought about him so many times that even writing this sentence makes me tear up. He, was an ornery old man, to the untrained eye, to me, he was perfect. I always thought that between he and my grandmother he was funnier, I’d learn later in life that she is actually hilarious.

The next time I’d have to say goodbye to a grandparent was in 2010. Shortly after my youngest was born. It was my mom’s dad. He was the sweeter of all of my grandparents. He didn’t look it, and I’d heard stories of his Spaniard temper and stubbornness, but I never witnessed it. He always said he loved me, every single time I was with him, he never withheld that from me. I’d do anything to hear him say that one more time.

Then, my mom’s mom, the heart and soul of every family party. She wasn’t just an amazing cook, oh no, that woman had music in her blood. She danced until she was so sweaty that none of us grandkids really wanted to kiss her goodbye until we wiped her face with a napkin (we’d never do that of course, we also, all had a healthy fear of the woman). She would teach all of us to dance, like it or not. She resembled a honey badger… and if you don’t know that reference, you should look it up. We’d see her leave us, before her body did, because of Alzheimer’s. But, I get to see her in all of my cousins every single time there’s music playing. I get to see her every time I clean my house, because she taught me how to do that, “the right way”. I get to see her every time I see my sister washing dishes in her kitchen, she leans on her sink just like my grandmother used to. Alzheimer’s didn’t succeed, because I’ve not forgotten her.

My dad’s mom is currently in hospice, I know she’ll get called home soon and I know that logically it’s time for her to finally rest. To be reunited with her savior and the love of her life. My grandmother, turns out, was the funniest of all of my grandparents. When I think about my other grandparents most of my memories are from when I was a child or much younger. With her, our relationship blossomed once I was an adult. She’d tell me so many stories about being a young bride, about raising two boys, about sending her boys away when her husband saw a government encroaching into their home. I loved her stories about my grandfather the best. We’d sit for hours and she would tell me about her job and how tired she was, but she literally worked until just a few years ago. Such a talented woman, with so much energy, she’d always be knitting something, or finishing up a puzzle, or reading, or asking me what time it was because, there was something coming on TV that she wanted to see. I learned so much from her. Not the knitting and stuff, God bless her, she really did try to teach me. No, she taught me, she’s modeled for me, the kind of grandmother I want to be. A grandmother who is honest, funny, supportive, loving, nurturing, interesting and generous. I hate living so far from her. I know, I’m not going to be able to say goodbye.

Grandparents are a blessing unlike anything else this world has to offer. They are our past, and the architects of the very foundations that our families were built on, that we continue to build on.

God, showed-off with the 4 grandparents He gave me. These 4 people that helped shape me into who I am today.

I know I will see them all again, especially, on the day I see my first grandchild. They’ll be there, in spirit… and it’ll be my responsibility to represent them all… well.

22 years...