In Loving Memory

In Loving Memory of Silveria Herrera

(Actually written Thursday, July 27, 2006)

“Listen.”

An hour ago I got a phone call from my younger brother, Jay-Jay. He’s only a year younger than me, but he’ll always be Jay-Jay even when we're in our 50’s. I knew it was something bad. Our conversations never start with the word “listen.”

“Lola passed away,” he said in nearly a whisper.

Lola means grandmother in Filipino.

This wasn’t shocking news. As a matter of fact, I feel bad that I didn’t feel worse. Now, I know it may come across as cold, but I came to terms with my grandmother’s passing months ago during my last visit to Florida. She’s been on life support for several months now and may she rest in peace, she was a bad ass that kept fighting until she was ready to go and no one would tell her otherwise. And, that is how I choose to remember her. It would be an insult to think of her in any other way.

What made me cry was not being able to be there for my mom. I could hear her in the background crying. Although she and I have had so many discussions about death and moving on, I guess nothing can really prepare you for reality.

Jay-Jay eventually handed her the phone and she repeated the news. Why couldn’t I think of anything more to say than “I’m sorry?” And, why is it that those words never feel enough? I’m a writer for fuck’s sake. I should have an entire back catalog of the right things to say in bad situations. No, instead it was “I’m sorry;” poor, inadequate, trite “I’m sorry.”

Mommy was there with Lola until the last second. Mommy held her hand until she was gone. She said to me she wasn’t going to let Lola go by herself; that she had to be there with her. She said she didn’t want it to be like when my father passed away; that he left my mom when she wasn’t there. This is when she started crying again and dropped the phone. Jay-Jay picked up the phone and said he was going to stay there with her. I told him I would see them on Saturday, but I’d call on Friday.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that I got hit like a sledgehammer by my mom’s words. What kept playing on a loop in my head was the part where she wasn’t there when my father passed away. I hope my mom hasn’t been carrying around that kind of guilt for this long. That is a lot to hold on to; a lot of pain to harbor. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, let alone my best friend in the world.

Jay-Jay also told me my little baby, Haylee was in the room when Lola passed away. I knew this was some small comfort for my mother. Let me explain, just like all other mothers, my mother is the head of the family. She takes care of all. She is the strongest, she is the provider and she is the Diva.

With Haylee there, my mother would never allow herself to slip into a depression. With Haylee, my mother sees that she is still needed, that she still has to be strong for the babies and new editions to the family. Haylee represents my other nieces and nephews Aimee, Amber, Lucas and Nyko -- that my mother is still the Queen Bee; Haylee represents life and that it certainly goes on.

I suspect she felt powerless as the foundation for the family after losing her own mother. I suspect this because my mother and I are the same way in mind and how we mull things out in our heads. That’s why she’s my best friend. In no way do I feel her equal; I could only aspire to be as strong as she is, as clever and as intuitive.

I wish I had a time machine. I wish I had a teleportation machine. I wish I had the capability to be there this very second. I have none of these things. I wish I could take away Mom’s pain. If I could, I certainly would. It’s not “I will,” but “I wish;” poor, inadequate “I wish.”

I’m happy Lola isn’t feeling pain anymore. I’m happy she’ll be reunited with Lolo and her sister. For now, that will have to do since I can’t really find any other happiness in a time like this. I hope that’s enough. I won’t downplay hope like “sorry” or “wish.” I say it all the time, but it wasn’t until just now that I understood and subscribed to the concept: Hope does spring eternal.