When I was five, I was playing with a shovel and sliced off a toe nail. My grandmother nursed me and let me sleep with her at night.
At the age of eight, I got the chickenpox really bad. I stayed home for two weeks and she fed me apples, applied lotion very gently to help ease the itching and placed sliced potatoes all over my body to reduce my high fever.
My grandmother thought my siblings and I how to pray the rosary and she made us pray it with her everyday because she believed in the power of prayer.
When my siblings and I discovered new foods in the lunchroom that were foreign to our native country (grilled cheese, spaghetti with marinara sauce, pancakes, French toast, sloppy joes, mashed potatoes with gravy) we'd come home and tell my grandmother all about it so she could replicate the food. Even though at times the food did not taste the same, my grandmother never stopped trying to please us with her cooking.
My grandmother never had a formal job, but she always managed to earn money by babysitting, washing and ironing clothes, and picking up aluminum cans anywhere we found them to recycle them. With the little money she earned, my grandmother would take us to the corner store and buy us gum or a small bag of potato chips.
Vacations were non-existent and an unknown concept in our family. What we looked forward to the most was the meal after mass on Sunday. My grandmother always had a batch of ox tail soup ready. We easily consumed every last drop like the way the hot Miami sun scorched our forehead with beads of sweat.
As the oldest of seven, my grandmother was expected to stay home and help her mother with the house chores and raise her younger siblings. Her lack of education resulted in illiteracy, and while she could not help me out with my homework as child, she made every effort to wake me up early the next day of school so I could ask a friend for help and finish it before the school bell rang.
When my legs hurt from growing pains, I'd ask my grandmother to stretch and she obligingly complied and massaged them with her hot heavy hands.
At night, my grandmother would tell me to thank God for all I had, because according to her, even cows had the decency to kneel before going to bed.
Despite the fact we grew up in Miami, Fl, when the temperature reached below 79 (Miami winter temps) she'd advice us not to walk barefoot on the cold floor because according to my grandmother, all diseases entered through your feet.
There just wasn't ever a day in which I did not feel my grandmother's love. She was always so proud of me & made sure to tell everyone about all of my accomplishments. My grandmother always put everyone else above her and lived her life in a humble way. The six miles I ran today could never quantify the love and sacrifice exhibited by my grandmother, but as long as I am breathing, I will honor the life of my grandmother any way I can.
Rest in Peace my beautiful grandmother.
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