Good Day to You!
Today I sit in the communal eating area of the Boston Hotel roughly 26 hours before the start of the 119th Boston Marathon.
On April 9, 2015 I came from work tired and groggy from a cold that had mounted an assault on my body 11 days before Boston. Fret not though I had the following three days off of work to rest, recover, and be there for my friend Carina as set off to complete her first half marathon.
I enter my home. Do the usually so hello to my step dad as he records music off youtube from his phone via a sound system onto a cassette with international soccer playing in the background. The computer was still so that means that Carnation Carpet Cleaning was not closed for the evening. Yes, my stepfather is quite the small business entrepreneur.
As I get close to the kitchen I hear some crying. My mother crying. They were the types of tears I have heard less than a handful of times each after the passing of a loved one.
I ask: "¿Que paso? ¿Quien se murio?"
Mom Replies: "Doña Sarita!!!"
Doña Sarita at one point or another took care of all of us. Whether it was with an invitation to share a meal to calm your hunger as you take on surviving in the United States, keeping you company with great conversation, spoiling your kids with the love and attention only a grandmother can give, or passing on her wisdom in story.
I remember when my grandma died I was but a wee lad. During the wake she sat next to me and gave me a small plastic red-orange monkey, put her arm around me, and held me.
After a few hours of reflecting I went over to my mom and told her don't cry tears of sadness for Doña Sarita lived a complete live. She brought her extensive family over from El Salvador over the course of several decades.
She guided her children to unite, struggle together, and eventually succeed together! She had several grandchildren. Then those Grandkids gave her Great-Grandkids. Some of those Great-grandkids gave her Great-Great-Grandkids. When the Priest blessed the Cross to be used on today's Sunday service it is tradition for it to be blessed as the hands of the young child holds it then it is passed to eldest child of the person whose life we were celebrating. Wouldn't you know that the cross was held by Doña Sarita's Great-Great-Great-Great-Granddaughter!!!
Doña Sarita touched the lives of approximately 8-9 generations! I hope the Lord blesses me to see a third what she was blessed.
Her procession rolled through the streets of our Barrio en la Mission de San Francisco, Califas 21 cars deep with each at capacity.
The image of her is a photo that her grandkids put together old-school collage form on display at the mortuary. It is an image of how I will always remember Doña Sarita...my grandma as well maybe not by blood but through love. My Boston Marathon is dedicated to you. I'll see you at the finish on Monday and when I cross my last finish line at St. Peters Gate.
!Doña Sarita! Cuideme y tomese un cafecito con mis abuelos y no se olvide de traerlos a Boston porque es una gran cuidad y quiero que esten conmigo. Bueno. Nos vemos pronto.
