I watch intently as my grandma, Mami, sits on her vanity bench, carefully applying her makeup. She puckers up as she puts her lipstick on and it makes me giggle. With one hand she gently touches and fixes her curls while batting her eyes at her reflection in the mirror. She is beautiful, and I am mesmerized by her. She looks at me and asks if I want some blush for my cheeks. I nod and cuddle close to her while she applies the pink color to my face. I smile and gaze into her hazel eyes.

My grandma and grandpa

Mami and I sing together in the car. We have our special and favorite songs. She’s the only one that never criticizes my singing, instead she encourages me to sing with her. I feel so free, so accomplished. I love our car rides together.

Once, Mami gets pulled over. The officer approaches the car and my grandmother smiles at the young officer and asks flirtatiously, “Officer, you just wanted an excuse to talk to me didn’t you!” He shakes his head and with a smile tells her to “be careful.” He too, has fallen to her charm. I understand, for I am under the same spell and will do anything for her.

Mami sings, performing on a large stage. She wears a long, velvety, maroon dress. A grand piano accompanies her in the background and a full house of spectators are gathered to hear her sing. She invites me up on stage and I hold on to her leg. I am so proud of her. And she is mine, my grandma.

We lay on her bed playing “kitchen.” I think she enjoys the game and has as much fun as I do. I forget that she has a weak heart and  needs rest. But we laugh together, and I offer to put on a play for her. I perform and she claps for me, she tells me it is the best act she has ever seen.

Sitting on a kitchen stool I watch as Mami separates the yoke from the white in one smooth motion as she cracks the egg and separates its contents. She pours the yoke into a small china cup and dumps a couple of teaspoons of sugar and hands it to me. I enjoy the sweet treat while she continues to bake. Later, we make flour tortillas together. We like to spread butter and sprinkle sugar on them. It is our weekend tradition.

My parents say I am being disobedient so she asks, “Ellen, won’t you do that for me?” And I do. I do it for her, no questions asks. Whatever she wants me to do I do. I love her and want to make her happy.

As I grow up, I enjoy talking to Mami about life. I want to know what she thinks; I want her advice. She listens, she asks questions, and then I lay down with her when he needs to rest and we watch a Mexican soap. Sometimes she falls asleep, but her presence is so peaceful, comfortable, and familiar. When I am with her I am home.

GrandmaMami greets my husband, Andy, with a hug and a kiss. She tells him, “Pero que guapo eres mi chulo!” Andy understands some Spanish and loves that she calls him handsome. She says she is proud of me, of how I have lived my life. I want her to be proud.

Mami sits on a chair looking outside her window, she scattered bird seed and watches as the birds fly by. She holds a rosary in her hands and her lips move in silent prayer. I know she woke up early and has been praying for her family, for me, my husband, my girls. She has always prayed.

I still needed her when she closed her eyes for the last time. Yet I can imagine the celebration of her homecoming in Heaven. I can close my eyes and picture her hazel eyes sparkling as she met Jesus face to face. Her heart, always weak, has now been restored.

But I miss her. Oh how I miss her. I wish you would have met her. You too, would have fallen to her charm.

 

Three women have made me who I am today: my mother, my aunt, and my grandmother. Being from a Latin culture, these women raised me, loved me, and invested in me. Two of them I still get to hold. But my grandmother has gone ahead of us. Happy mother’s day Mami, oh how I miss you!

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