Strong as an Oak
As Celine cleaned her closet; she came across an old jacket of hers. She tried it on just to see if it would still fit and if it was still useful to keep. She put her hands in her pockets and came across a photo. She looked at it; she forgot she had put it there. It was a photo of her grandma Alice and her aunt Julie and two cousins.
Celine saw in that photo that familiar smiling face that had always comforted her. Celine saw more than anybody else could see then. It all started when she saw her grandma smiling while giving her a kiss on the forehead; and some baby aspirin when she was five. She inquisitively asked her grandma how old she was and she said about 60. Celine thought that’s a long time and for the first time she worried about how long her grandma would be there for her but console herself; “60 is still young” she told her grandma and she laughed. As she fell asleep in the warm room, full of medicine, she looked drowsily at her sleeping grandpa on the other side of the room. How her grandma came to attend him, giving him an injection of insulin and lovingly fixing the pillow and asking if everything was okay. That was one Celine’s earliest memories of her grandma. How she stayed with her at vacations, how she went on accompanying her to the garden. Asking about plants that her grandma graciously answered questions about. While Celine felt like she bothered her parents, who were overburdened with their young sisters. Her grandma always had patience with her.
During the night her grandma would braid her hair and tell her stories, to the rhythm of the Spanish soap operas.
Her grandma would tell Celine about her living at her hometown in Cajoncitos, MX Celine would imagine her grandma in pigtails attending the chickens or walking by the river, and rough housing the boys.Celines grandma would tell her about the time she came to the United States and met grandpa and then they fell in love, but she had to go back to her hometown and Celine’s grandpa went after her all the way to Mexico. It was a true love story and how she came in the fifties and she was just 17.How they got married and how she had each of my uncles and aunts. And how blessed she was, regardless of how the dramatic climate change had affected her health and her asthma began. The troubles and pressures of being a mother with Mexican customs, and all that while living in the United States. How the family settled on the Segundo Barrio, all the way to Celine’s mothers growing up. How they handle the family business of used furniture and appliances. How Celine’s mom, Andrea met Alberto and Celine was born.
How she loved to sleep at her side, and listen to her breath so distressed by the asthma but for some reason it comfort her, because being a child it was a clear sign of her grandmas presence. Sometimes Celine would see her grandma get lost in a trance while using her nebulizer, which sounded like a space machine, and Celine would soon fall asleep with her grandmas words I love you very much and Celine would reply I love you very much too, and hug her tightly. Only to wake up that morning with an empty bed but a far enough busy chatter and coffee in the kitchen, and she would get up smelling that breakfast French toast, walked to the kitchen so her grandma could acknowledge she was up, then go back to bed and watch TV and wait till her Granma called her to eat. Her grandma was always busy; one minute at breakfast and another watering her plants, but her French toast where always there in the morning and she just felt so happy so at home. Then when she would finish eating she would do what other girls her age did, make herself busy, and keeping outta of trouble, viewing picture albums or anything of that sort, behaving just to make her grandma happy. And she did. And this special kind of love of closeness grew.
Celine put the jacket and the picture aside. As she remembered a special keepsake box and went to look for it in the basement. When she came across it, she quickly walked to her room again. She opened the box which contained such gifts that her grandma had given her during the years. The box contained an orange silk pillowcase sewn by Celine’s grandma herself, who was gifted in hand sewing, and crocheting Such things, Celine never learned or had interest in and regretted it now as she hugged the pillow. She put the pillow aside and continued rummaging in the box. Celine came across a small gold plated necklace, how Celine’s grandma had given it to her for her b-day back when she was in second grade. It was one of the best moments in her life; the necklace though was too small for Celine now. Next she came across some dolls, one of porcelain which the head had fallen off from playing too much with it. Other was a type of Barbie doll given to her by her grandma when she was fifteen as was the custom, the last doll before one became a woman. How troubling her life had been as a young woman.
Years went by when every time Celine could she would spend it with her grandma but time was short.
Celine looked at the picture some more. Remembering how her grandmas comforted her as she cried because she didn’t think her dad loved her, because he was strict and cold with her. She cried grabbing some pills and saying that she didn’t want to be in this world if her dad didn’t love her. Her grandma consoled her and said, “He loves you”
but how if he is so mean to me
, and she said I know he loves you, in his own way, don’t doubt it. He just wants you to be strong.”
And how right was she. At her grandma’s house didn’t feel she had to fit in like in school, or compete with her sisters for her parents love.
Celine’s thoughts continued to when she spent time with her grandma in Vegas visiting her aunt Liz and then at the lake. How her grandma was scared that she would go in the lake because a cousin had disappeared mysteriously at Elephant Butte Lake. Celine was annoyed like any girl her age at how much her grandma took care of her as the years passed by. Still their love and friendship continued, they promised each other that when Celine finished high school and she was 18 she would go live with her. Celine did, if only for a short time, but Celine was having emotional issues that she behaved distant and erratic with her grandma how she regretted now.
Celine’s thoughts went towards her grandma’s pain and how she consoled her first when her grandmas mom died and then her husband, Celine’s grandpa, and she thought as she sobbed why soon and close in time are they gone, how can I continue with this pain of losing two people I love. But she did continue for her grandma always said, “she was as strong as oak” whenever she had to be tough and encounter a difficult situation. Celine’s grandma spent all her life working to support the family even with her Asthma condition and the two jobs and 6 kids ; and Later a husband bedridden with diabetes.
Her thoughts went back to the day when she got baptized at the Mormon Church because she thought it was her calling and it made her grandma so happy. To this day Celine thinks that she did it to make her grandma happy. And she would, always doing something to make her happy, just like her grandma would do to her. Spoil her, buy her whatever she desired with sacrifice for her grandma didn’t have much but what she had she would give freely even if her hands were empty all the time. Her hospitality and her warm meal of comfort and advice. Celine’s grandma was there when Celine’s parents went through a separation, while her sisters took refuge in teen humdrums. Celine took comfort in her grandma’s hugs and protection.
That July 4, the whole family gathered for a cook out Celine’s grandma was so happy that she said in a premonitory tone. Seeing all my family gathered even my daughter from outta town Julie is here, I can die happy and she sighed and smiled. The whole family reprimanded her then.
The next week Celine was waiting for her grandma to get out of the hospital for an asthma attack she had been hospitalized from.
Her grandma came cheerfully to the house with snacks from the hospital for us; Oreos and donuts and juice, and she sat down contently waiting for her son to take her to pick up her meds as usual, but that same afternoon while Celine cleaned the house to welcome her grandma, she received a call from her aunt Liz and then her uncle came in frantically and said my mommy’s dying. Crumbling and tense, it took a while to get to the hospital my uncle was so distracted while Celines heart sank and she prayed nervously and made promises to God, Finally they reached the hospital and they led us up to see her and she had a tube in her mouth and her chest wasn’t moving and people came saying it was over while she had the third and final heart attack that took her away. Celine saw her and cried and said “I was sorry for all the pain I have caused you” and just kept saying like a child “wake up grandma what am I going do without you, please open your little eyes,” begging. But it was pointless .she felt she was gone if she wouldn’t wake up with her voice. As I heard in my head her saying I’m strong as an oak.
During the ICU Celine begged the nurses to give her a blanket and they looked at her coldly and said no. At that moment the decision came the toughest one that no one wants to hear, the doctor saying she was brain dead and that the decision had to be made to let her go, or put more tubes on her chest and see if she would wake up but he said it was pointless that the family should let her their beloved grandma and mom go. She would only suffer more with more tubes on her chest, and that there was a 0% chance for her to wake up.
Celine wanted to be alone so she went to the hospital chapel. Then she took the bible that was there and looked for her the book of psalms there she found it was her grandma favorite psalm number 6:2. One such that describe her life and struggles:
“O Lord, rebuke me not in thine anger, neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure.
Have mercy upon me, O lord; for I am weak : O lord, heal me; for my bones are vexed.
My soul is also sore vexed; but thou, O Lord, how long?
Return, O Lord, deliver my soul: oh save me from thy mercies sake.
For in death there is no remembrance of thee: in the grave who shall give thee thanks?
I’m weary with my groaning: all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears.
Mine eye is consumed because of grief; its waxeth old because of all mine enemies.
Depart from me, al ye workers of iniquity; for the Lord hath heard my weeping.
The Lord hath heard my supplication; the Lord will receive my prayer…”
Then Celine laid down at the pew and cried.
Celine’s uncle Steven thought it was best to take Celine back home so she said her final goodbye numbed by the pain. Wanting to see her alone and talk to her, but there was no privacy the family was big and everybody had to share their chance so she swallowed her words and gave her a final kiss.
That night Celine couldn’t sleep, that night after they took her off the life support, her grandma passed away.
That night the struggle began the family had always been poor and penniless, they had no money for the internment except 2000 dollars that Celine’s somewhat well doing aunt Julie was able to give. Everybody looked at Celine worriedly as they each pile all the money they could provide to not more than 600 dollars. Celine felt a brick of a load on her back, everybody looked at her because she was their only hope the only member of the Mormon Church that afternoon she cried and begged the members of the newly joined Mormon congregation to help her. It took 6 days of grandma in the funeral parlor waiting but they helped the family with open arms. Grandma was a member of their church to but since she was sick most of the time she couldn’t attend services.
That time, the uncle told us the story of how grandma collapsed in the supermarket, where she was buying some lunch after picking up her meds, and how people froze in shock not knowing what to do. The manager of the supermarket wanted no part in the situation and asked the security guards to take her out of the supermarket and into the front of the supermarket. There they laid her on the pavement while my uncle called the paramedics since nobody did. Then he struggled with CPR since nobody knew how to give any. There he struggled for 15 min. Until the paramedics arrive they were only a block away they arrived calmly as if giving up on grandma on the first call. Maybe her delay in treatment made her worse but she had two more heart attacks on the way to the hospital.
The probable cause they said was a blood clot that had reached her lungs, they said and asked if she had fallen, Celine stayed silent but recalled the two weeks earlier her grandma had slipped in the mud while filling a swamp cooler with water after Celine complained it was hot and no one was in the house. She would regret it to this day, so many ifs. She felt so guilty, and no one could take that feeling away. It just that grandma was so active during her life, she had taken many duties from her husband since he lost his leg but as she got older it was harder and she was so stubborn to take a day off, just that little slip that little accident could have taken her away, away from Celine, forever.
Celine went to the Mormon church to give her last respects to her beloved grandma, thinking that nothing would be the same, not knowing what to expect or how she would feel as they handed her a prayer card and a paper announcing the session She wondered if the pain she buried within her would come out through her weakness she feared being like her mom when she lost her dad, Celine’s grandpa, she almost went crazy. Or her uncle when he hurriedly picked them up to go to the hospital. The service began and they led her to a small church gathering, at this gathering where her aunt Julie said a few words of goodbye, but Celine didn’t listen her eyes where focused on the white coffin that laid closed before her. She just couldn’t believe her Grandma was gone lying in that coffin motionless. That her broken breath was no more. That people told her she was home with god, now resting. And Celine thought she was selfish and she didn’t care she wanted her grandma with her no matter what, her eyes focused on the coffin that was moved to another smaller room for a final goodbye service and visitation. At first Celine didn’t know if she wanted to get closed to the open coffin. If she was ready for what she was too see. So she sat and waited a while before she had the guts, looking at the grim family members who only a few months earlier had been joyful and laughing. Celine finally took her turn and she walked to the coffin on wobbling knees. What she saw froze her to the core there was her grandma resting as if asleep, but with a pale face with crudely done makeup that didn’t look like her at all. Celine grabbed her hand it was cold and stiff, not warm like before she couldn’t accept that she wouldn’t see her again. And that this was the last time she would see her and in this way. She couldn’t take it; she headed outside until the service finished and accompanied her cousin. Who was outside too with red eyes. She thought she couldn’t handle it no more, but she still had to attend the burial, the cemetery was far and the whole family followed in their cars the whole length following the white carriage, every time getting closer to the destination, every time, min, her heart sank, and her sister looked at her blankly. Finally the time came to reach the cemetery it was full and there was coldness in the air. Her aunt Sandra cried endlessly, so much she put too much pressure on the coffin stand causing it to tilt fall out of balance and people tried to control her but “she said no leave me alone, in an attitude she had never done before,” and Celine comprehended that though she was in pain she had to hold her own there was no one to console her then, everybody was buried in their own pain. Her grandma’s uncles tried to cheer people up with their music and singing but people stared blankly at them not knowing how to take them. Finally they told everyone to leave while they lowered the coffin deep in the cement filled abyss of a hole. Celine had a flower which she intended to put on her grandfather’s grave but she mixed up graves and she put the flower in another grave of someone unknown but she didn’t take it back she left it there she felt bad taking it away from that grave.
Celine when she reached her grandma’s house didn’t know what to do, people told her to eat, but she wouldn’t, she had issues before more now, she laid down in her grandmas bed, but she couldn’t sleep, she wanted to feel her grandma their but felt nothing but her heartache. Within the days she thought it was dream and that her grandma would come back and say it was a mistake, she thought she could hear her singular voice, but it was only in the stupor of her pain.
The next afternoon Celine went to see the collage that the Aunt Eliza made with all the album pictures of my grandma and the family, there she saw the best picture of grandma and she waited till no one was around and took it out and put it in her jacket pocket.
The nights following her grandmas death were terrible, her uncle John filled with pain over the loss, consumed alcohol to relive the pain but it only deepened for in the nights he cried and went to the kitchen looking for her. He begged for her to come back, he begged god to bring her back, he talked to her in the emptiness of the room. “Come back mommy. Come on touch my forehead and tell me everything is going to be okay, come and tuck me in to make sure my feet are covered from the cold. I can’t live without you.”
During the subsequent days months and years, the lovely garden dried and the house began to fall apart ,no longer was it the same .The house felt like an empty nest that the had being abandoned with the grown up chicklings inside. Celine found it hard to visit year after year, and felt threats about talks of throwing down the house and selling the land. Oh if only Celine had the money . could save the house and her uncles but it was a dream. She thought as she again picked up the photo and hugged it. And she could almost hear her grandma say “Be strong like an oak.”
Dying Embers
Dying Embers
It’s getting harder to live day by day without her presence; the morning coffee tastes acrid, but the smell…oh the smell of it, in the style of Merida, consumes me into a trance of memories.
It was one hot afternoon in Valencia, Venezuela, when I carried her away from the crowds. At that moment I could not bear to see her face, instead my eyes strayed into finding the nearest exit. However, for the longest time I only encountered posters on the floor, one of which read “Voz y Voto para la gente.” I could hear the sound of the protesters still yelling in the background. The screams of other victims, the fumes of the tear gas that threatened to choke out my senses with their invisible gasp, and the force of the water that the police were using to expel us from the scene is still very much reminiscent of the day. What is more I could hear the shrill sound of gunfire in the distance, but somehow for me though it was easy to mute my surroundings, yet hard they were to evade.
I could feel her warm blood seeping down my arms, draining her life each second. This in turn exceeded my desperation for I couldn’t find my way out of the horrid mess the more I tried. I could hear an ambulance at a far distance; but unless I could find it, it offered no consolation to my dire situation.
It took a toll on me to finally be able to muster the courage to look down at her face; and when I did I notice her face was a color of pale, her cascading curls of hair were now matted by the blood around her face, and her luminous hazel eyes were dulling into a somber shade. Seeing her condition made me feel even more frantic in finding a way out of the crowd, the police, and just out of everything. In as much as my mind rattled into incoherent and impossible feats to drive my love out of this hell.
A stout woman came out of nowhere and said the ambulance is at the gate of the municipal hall, and it wouldn’t go any further. I knew exactly were that was and fortunately it was not far so I ran with all my might; seeing the red of the ambulance getting closer; seeing her only salvation. Finally, I arrived, and handed her body to the paramedics; “Hagan algo”. (Do something). They took her pulse and the look of despair in the paramedics gave me no hope. It was too late; I had arrived too late; could this be true; that I had lost her. In a moment of panic, disbelieve, and losing my reason I took the body into my arms again. Her neck was now hanging limp from in my arms. Pain was rising in my heart. Guilt was encompassing my being for I could remember the night when we had both watched the local news channel on T.V. Recalling the events in our childhood that we had lived through I joked, “Now that you are a model, you can save the world Olivia.” He had only been joking, but her eyes held a foreign twinkle. I noticed her eyes held that sparkle in them a week later when she was standing at that platform after doing the catwalk, ogled and admired by everyone. Olivia’s auburn hair shone with a sparkling brilliance against the show lights. Her hazel eyes had an indelible glance alongside her elfin like features. An air of grace enveloped her every movement; Olivia could have had everything. She could have made love to the world but she chose one thing.
That tragic morning, I woke up early after a restless night, today we would be joining the protest rally for the first time. My mind and body were in an agitated state at the acknowledgement of this new feat. Olivia managed to wake me up from my oblivious state when in her usual perky manner said, “Ismael, babe, I will be ready in a couple of minutes. I went into the kitchen and made coffee for both of us. Olivia came into the kitchen and commented on the robust smell of the coffee that filled the air. As we sat down, a conversation took place mostly about the rally. “Are you ready for the rally,” I asked? She replied so confidently yet with still a subtle insecurity, “Is anyone really ready for a rally in the world that we live in today? Am I prepared to do what I must do, yes. Yet, will I be ready for what may or may not happen while I, we are out there? All I know is that I don’t want to be a model all my life and be subjugated to false admiration.” She simply said, “Now that I am a model, people will listen and I can help change the world.” Her vision made her eyes spark with that twinkle I had seen early only this time it was not foreign but a true part of her.
It was that fateful hot afternoon at what was supposed to be and had started as a peaceful rally turned into a hellish landscape with literal hellfire and brimstone. In the midst of the crowd I had lost sight of Olivia. I heard my name being yelled out in a familiar tone and saw Olivia running towards me. As her eyes glanced at me I saw that they shone with what could only be described as a fiery determination and with an ethereal quality. Suddenly I heard a sound that pierced the air, like hail pouring down hard on the roof of a car; it was gunshots. Before I could react Olivia was struck and fell to the ground. I hurried towards her, there was a pool of blood forming around her; a bullet had struck the left side of her head. She was conscious for a few minutes but I knew it wasn’t for long I could see dying embers in her eyes.
In the ambulance; I held Olivia’s body and closed her eyes one last time. I did the only thing I could do at that moment, I cried incessantly for my love and friend. As I recall these grievous event my coffee emanates a smell of sulfur and my mind recreates the gunshot.
Black oil
At first, we thought the black liquid was oil, that we’d struck it rich and that we’d be able to retire and live in leisure. We actually started writing down all the ways we’d spend the money. Our first choice was owning a piece of property but we could not decide. I wanted a private island and Ruth wanted to own a farm that was the first of many disasters. This led to an argument that ended nowhere until I decided to find a solution before we both ended up slamming doors at each other. However, her big angry brown eyes disturbed my concentration and I did not find one in time. “I never have a say” claimed Ruth with an imminent and escalating emotion like a volcano that is about to burst. “We have plenty of time to decide,” I added, but I stupidly decided to add the next clause that finished bursting this volcano of a woman. If not, we will divide the money and part each our own ways”. I knew we would never do that because we loved each other too much but it was on my mind and I said it. I regret it now. She stormed out of the living room and slammed the door. I went outside it was best to leave her alone and let her calm down. I surveyed the area for the fiftieth time, we would be moving in a hotel this week after the inspector came and made the pertinent paperwork of releasing the land and also after the results of inspecting the black liquid came back. I felt nostalgic, not that I missed the land, now that I was about to hit it big, I couldn’t care less. Must I relate to you the story of how I came about the oil or about my past and miserable sub sequential life.
I will begin with the discovery. As usual Ruth was nagging me about fixing the garden. I really didn’t want to I hate gardening and was looking for an easier way out of this. I studied the yard for what seemed hours. I guess the easiest choice right now was parting with my old car, I forgot what kind it was. I have been forgetting a lot of stuff lately. I didn’t want to though. So my thoughts went into the next object that darn mulberry tree, I hated so much but Ruth didn’t let me cut. She always said it was the only thing alive in the yard. Well I will at least trim it. So I headed right through. I came across an old and rotten oil pan, I decided to get rid of that and just threw the damn thing in the trash. I went back to the tree but my eyes focused on the car. I had gotten millions of offers for the car must it be time to get rid of it. Maybe I can trade it for something else, but what could it be. I could use the space to make an extension of the house. It was the hot part of the day and I wanted to do the less meaningful work and looking for anything that would bring me back inside.
I went back inside and called the local newspaper company to place an ad but since I forgot the car brand and only new it was a 70 something, I told the selling agent I would call back. I was then dozing off and fell asleep in the chair. Ruth would soon be back with groceries and look at me like if I was the Frank Kafka’s creature. That thought made me so angry that I decided on doing something drastic so she could know who is the man of the house. I went to look for my ax, but it was not in good condition, so I went to borrow the neighbor’s Efrain but when I told him about my plans he said and ax was not good I need a higher powered tool, he said I would bust my ass for nothing. He lends me a chainsaw he baptized with the name Sylvia as he named each of his tools he told me to be careful.
I must actually confess the feeling of destruction felt good but no more than hacking that tree felt. Of course, I didn’t calculate how big the tree was or that light poles where embedded in there. I just didn’t. Eventually the tree came down light poles and all and it came back to the neighbor’s yard now I had to pay for damages. What was worse was that the lights went out for two days and I had to endure the stares of the electricians and neighbors. At least not of Ruth it was too dark to see her big angry eyes.
When finally, all that was over and I would receive a bill from the city over the costs of fixing the lines that was estimated the least to 20 thousand in whole, the light folks are relentless. I went to check out the stump, and noticed a black liquid coming out from it. I mentioned to Ruth casually about it and at first she lends no care but then her eyes widened and she went outside to check. Its black oil she said, I looked at her oddly, it wasn’t me, I always use a pan, she looked at me in a way that seemed to make her anger subsided not that kind of oil she said, it the oil that makes you rich. Just like in that show Amador. We looked at each other were to start, who to ask, we decided to go to the library the next evening and use their computers and sure enough we found a number. Which we wrote down and then when we got home we called. We figured on them coming the next day but they came that same evening. The inspector immediately said he doubt it was the rich black oil because it wasn’t deep enough into the ground it was still black oil but of a lesser kind. Still valuable but not so much. I let Ruth know that and I wondered if it was enough for a piece of land somewhere else. That is where we found each other at the argument. My thoughts and silence were interrupted by Ruth she said the phone was ringing and it’s for you, it’s the oil company. I listened to them on the phone. Then I went outside and kicked the car then the tree with Ruth following behind me. What happened she asked. You don’t want to know. Ruth stayed silent then said you don’t want me to drag it out of you. Okay I said the oil test came back negative for rich black oil, but positive for motor oil. The look Ruth gave me was killer then she said at least you have somewhere to sit cause you are not coming inside the house.
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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.10.2015
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To my grandma