A couple of days ago I went searching for photos of Gladys. I only found a couple, I’m hoping I have more somewhere else, but this seems to suffice for now.
I’ve put the picture, of Gladys sitting with my mom, my sister and I at our Christmas table in 2000, the last time she came to the US (she was already 82 years old). We had just bought the house, so we celebrated Christmas here.
It’s terribly sad but I have practically no memories of her visit – and really, of any of her visits here. At first I thought I was just blocking them, but it’s been two years since her death and I still can’t find them. I know she stayed at our house with Kathy for a few more days after my parents left – and I know she really loved our cats, but that’s about it.
But since I put the picture below my computer monitor, where I see her, at least indirectly every so often, I have the feeling that she’s here. I don’t mean her spirit, but that she’s actually visiting. That I will see her around a corner, that I’m going to ask her what she wants for dinner (a memory! I made ropa vieja when she came), that we are going to sit on the couch and watch the kids play. Now tears.
When Gladys died I spent days crying. Everyone – aunts, uncles, cousins – kept trying to console me, make me feel better. But all I wanted to do was cry, mourn her, experience my pain. I don’t cry that often now, perhaps every two or three days and not for very long – but I do mourn her.
And yet, that picture and the somewhat ephimerous feeling that she’s here.