Goodbye Estrella

I lost a mother a couple of months ago. This woman raised me and meant as much to me as the woman who birthed me. She died because her cancer came back and didn't want to "bother" us by telling us that it did. I am so angry at her for that. I am angry that her concern for us took her away from us forever. I am angry that she never gave me the chance to take care of her, as she had always taken cared of me. I am angry that from now on I have to refer to her in the past tense.

I regret that I will never bring her into my house and show her the room I would've set aside for her. I regret that I will never argue with her again about having kids to take care of me in my old age. I regret that she went back to Escalante, she should've never left us in the first place, even if it was the "right" thing to do at the time; because I know that she was happier with us no matter what she said.

I feel sorry for you. For those of you who never met her, those of you who were never at the receiving end of her warmth, generosity, and love. I feel sorrier for those who did know her, because they only got a fraction of she gave me and my family.

I am thankful that I was there at the last. I am thankful that I got a chance to take care of her, even if it was only for four days. I am thankful for whatever it was that made me travel to Escalante four days early to pick her up; if I had waited I would've been too late. I am thankful that she made us her life and was content with us. I am thankful that she considered me her son and was proud of me and loved me; even if I never agreed to her plan that I should marry and have kids. I am thankful that in the end, she had her kids come in and take care of her, just as she would've wished. I am thankful that I had the chance to tell her I love her and that she didn't need to take care of me anymore (liar) so she can rest. I am thankful that even in the end, true to form, she made it easy for us and took away the choice of having to put her in the charity ward because we could no longer afford to keep her in her private room.

I didn't cry when my Yaya died. I didn't cry when we brought her body back to Escalante and buried her. I had to get control of myself when I drove her to the hospital that Wednesday and I've been in control ever since. I told myself I'd let myself go crazy after the funeral since there was no one to take care of things. I didn't. Now that I finally got the nerve to write this, I'm finally letting myself grieve for her. I am thankful to her for that, too.

I miss my Yaya.