Lemons

(participating in Pour out your heart, thanks shell! http://thingsicantsay-shell.blogspot.com/ )

When life gives you lemons make lemonade. I agree make a situation bittersweet instead of just bitter.

This past weekend my cousin, his wife (love her!) and I headed down to CA because our aunt is in the hospital.  We know the inevitable is coming and we wanted to make the trip before not after.  When I walked into the I.C.U.room  I was taken aback by how different my Tia appeared from the last time I saw her.  Upon second glance though her big brown eyes were exactly the same. Her eyes are similar to my mothers eyes.  With Alzheimer’s beginning to set in she had to ask me a few times who I was and asked who my mother was as well.  When I would tell her, each time she responded the same “aye mi hermana, she’s in heaven waiting for me.”  I don’t know how it happened but the last time I was with my aunt was about 4 years ago.  So, here we were together once again. I held her fragile hand and just marveled at how these hands once fed our family. She is  known for making the best nacatamales (Nicaraguan tamales)   Due to the uncertainty of the circumstance a lot of our family is beginning to pour in and visit.  I saw cousins who I hadn’t seen in a few years, Uncles and Aunts as well. One aunt I hadn’t seen in over 15 years, it was amazing!  Sunday I went and said good bye to my Tia because we had to get back home. Without saying it I think we both knew that this may be the last time we would see eachother. I’m sad, but I’m also heading back home with joy over seeing my family and being able to spend time with them.  From the up and coming younger ones to the older ones. This experience I take and drink in, like a tall glass of lemonade not too sweet, not too bitter, and just right.

Memorable moments of this past weekend:

1.       Acutely reminded how blunt our family is, most of their greetings were “ Emily, oh hija and then quickly followed by..estas gorda!”  ( it’s meant in love , it really is)

2.       Spending time with just us cousins, because we wanted to  and being able to reminisce of days gone by.

3.       My cousin Silvio telling me that our Tia’s were greeting him the same way ( Silvio!...hugs….estas gordo)  Gotta love them for their consistency!

4.       My cousin Johan recalling a time when his grandma (another one of my aunts whose passed on) once picked him up from school for getting in trouble and didn’t “discipline” him until after she let him play video games, gave him dinner and kissed him goodnite. Then, she closed the door and a few moments later she re-opened the door only to spank him. We laughed so hard.

5.       Singing childhood lullabies with my Tia  in the hospital. I hadn’t heard some of those songs since I was little! (That moment there I will cherish for the rest of my life)

Mr. Chris and the wife

We're moving, nowhere far just a couple miles down the road, yet those couple of miles change a lot in our life. The house we've lived in was the first place we became a family. My husband and I shared our first years of marriage in this home. In this home, we came home from the hospital with a brand new baby boy in our arms. I remember my neighbors seeing my pregnancy progress and they gladly took a peek of our new bundle of boy. As the years went on, we got to know our next-door neighbors. Morning greetings were a norm and the occasional " can we borrow your ladder?" were common interfaces with them. As our bundle of boy grew so did his desire to explore not just our home, but also our next-door neighbors home. They would graciously allow us to walk our children through their Christmas decorations and would sometimes give us things they thought we could use. A couple of summers ago our neighbor Chris was painting the outside of his house. There he was painting and as always had an unlit cigar hanging from the side of his mouth. Samuel was fascinated and when Mr. Chris allowed him to "help,” Mr. Chris became Samuel's friend. As Samuel grew a little older, he would ask to go say hi to the neighbors. I would let him go, they would say hello, and he would run home. On one occasion, Samuel went to the door and asked Mr. Chris " where's the wife?” They keep an extra fridge in their garage stocked with cold water bottles and about once a week, Samuel asks if he can go get water from them. He claims their water just taste better than ours. For Christmas, we gave them a big pack of water. So, as I began packing I realized this relationship Samuel has cultivated with them is now coming to an end. I can't help but feel a little tinge of pain knowing that where we move will probably not afford us this same experience. After all, they've known Samuel his whole life! I pondered about how much of this friendship Samuel will retain and then it struck me. When I was a little girl, we had an older couple living next door to us. The husband was tall, wore glasses and smoked cigars, just like Mr. Chris. I remember going to their house by myself and just saying hi or playing with their dog. I remember feeling safe and loved by this couple. So, as I reflect on Samuel's experience I can't help but see how full circle life can be. To this day, I love Don Celso and Blanca, they became one of my best child hood memories and I'm so glad to know that Samuel will be able to look back and fondly remember Mr. Chris and "the Wife.”

QUINCHO BARRILETE

It's okay you're probably looking at the title, thinking " huh what?" It's the title of a very famous song written in the 70's by a man from Nicaragua. Long story short I grew up hearing my family listen to the song and they usually sang along with a bottle of something while playing cards. As a child I thought they were crazy. Years later when I ventured off to Nicaragua I became somewhat interested in this country that my family so loved and yet fiercely fled. Once in a while I will hear a song from those times but they tend to sadden me because it reminds me of my mother, which then reminds me of the fact that she is no longer here. Anyways, tonight I ,for the first time, listened to the song and finally understood it's meaning. The song is about a little boy killed during the revolution,and the song at that time carried a heavy political message which stood contrary to the powers that were(and unfortunately still are). I sat and listened to the song a few more times and even googled it to see how great the impact of that song truly was. I realize now that my family probably listened to the song with that same bittersweet sensation I now feel in my own heart. For them I'm sure it was a jog down memory lane, perhaps an air of what once was and the stark reminder of why it could no longer be. So over cards and spirits(the liquid kind) these songs played and without my knowing they became embedded in me. When I hear this music it will still take me back to those days only now I won't look at my family as if they were crazy(although they were) but I will also fondly look at them in appreciation for what they endured.