My husband's grandmother passed away last week. She was 93. A good long life. She went to sleep and just didn't wake up. A beautiful way to go, if you ask me. Peaceful, with out suffering or long hospital stays etc.
I remember when she came from Cuba for her visit that turned permanent in 1985. The entire clan went to greet her at the airport and then we all went to my in-laws house. We had champagne to celebrate the visit, she hadn't seen her daughter (my MIL) in 23 years. It was quite a reunion. I remember running out at 11:30 at night looking for an open super market to buy pears. That's right, the fruit. She hadn't had a fresh pear in she couldn't remember how long. My then boyfriend (now hubby) and I drove all over until we found a 24 hour grocery and came back with a dozen pears. Yeah, we went a little over the top. So, we all had pears and champagne. It was very festive.
In Cuba she left her sister and her son's 2 grandchildren, in their mid 20's by then. And here she lived with her daughter, close to her son and met her daughter's 2 grandchildren who she had only seen in a handful of pictures that she had been sent over the years. She walked in my wedding, she handmade a special wrap that both of my children used when they were born to go home from the hospital. I later sent it to Cuba so that the great-grandchildren there could use it too. When they finally came to the States, they brought it back and my sister-in-law used it too. All of her great-grand children used the same wrap. She helped care for my kids when they were newborn and many times cooked extra food and packed it up for me to take home and have a night off from the kitchen. For my birthday she would make Arroz con Leche, my favorite Cuban dessert and for my hubby she would make Natilla. She was a quiet Cuban woman not fitting the loud busybody sterotype. She was always there helping in little ways.
As her sight began to fail she fell and broke her hip a few years back and she was never the same. She wanted to be at the family gathering but be left alone. All the commotion and noise bothered her and she wanted up to be there but quiet. Well, we all gathered this weekend Abuelita and we quietly prayed and reminisced about you. Rest in peace abuelita. You are missed.