RIP Abuela

October is the month depression hits
Sometimes it would drive me to seek help
Sometimes I muddled through
Then fall on my face in December

My intellect would look for causes
My baby sister was born
Was it jealously?
But I couldn’t make it stick

My step-father’s birthday?
But he was a good guy back then
And the feeling was one of sadness
Not anger or fear

But today the memory broke through
My grandmother’s death
I had no way then, in 1958
To make sense of my feelings

And even now
I have to titer the grief
To not be consumed
With hiccuping sobs

She was the Matriarch
We were all lost without her
But life was hectic
A fifth child to be born

And then Hawaii
And starting kindergarten
But her memory
Lived in my bones

I was cut from her same cloth
I gaze at her picture now
And see me
Even her arms and hands

And I am complete
In a way I wasn’t before
And searching for my ancestors
Was her calling me

And my gathering and protecting
Family memorabilia
I was trying to find
My lost Grandma memories

It all makes sense
The cyclic grief–a flashback
Can only be healed in real time
Rebirthing her, rebirths me

100125 bjb