the new stupid laws mean that we cant go because my passport is expired... i used to not even need one, we used to go with our birth certificates and that was it.. now we all need passports.
i called washington DC but they need proof of her death from a hospital.. well that isnt going to happen.
she died at home and will be seen at home, thats the way things works there...
they arent going to take her to a hospital, she died peacefully in her sleep and in her bed. i guess one couldnt ask for anything more. i wouldnt want her taken to a hospital either. those places are evil and it isnt like they can do anything for her now.
people will go to her home and see her in her bed. the bed that her and I slept together in so many years because we were both lonely in her big house so we always slept together to keep each other warm, especially during cold january nights like this one. It is an old full sized bed, the sheets probably have holes in them and the pillowcases dont match. she will probably be dressed up in a nice gown and her red hair will be curled and parted to one side. her green eyes will be shut but she will probably have some light eyeshadow on. She never wore eyeliner but my mother does, so she might force some on her... my mother will dress her and make sure she wears her favorite necklace. I am pretty sure she will wear the earrings that she wore when she married my grandfather, they were always her most treasured pair... even after he left her she claimed that he was the love of her life. He probably wont be there, I dont see why he would show up. She probably wont need lipstick, she never did.. her lips were naturally red and perfectly shaped.
the nightstands will have candles all around, lit each for one of us... for her family. people will bring food and gather around her bed. they will probably pray or sing.
there will be pictures of all of us, but mostly of me... i lived with her the longest and I loved her the most. She was the first person to show me it was ok to be me, regardless of even what my own mother said. She was the first person to tell me about my growing breasts and how they were normal. She showed me how to wash clothes by hand and how to fry an egg. She showed me the secret of good refried beans... and how to take menstrual blood off of your cloth pad. She grew up with them and knew the trick of taking stains out of everything. She was my safe haven when I ran away and she promised she would always be there for me when I needed her... and she was. She stood up to my mother about the way she was treating me.
the house will probably smell like Cempasuchitl, the marigold flower of death... calendula... that is what people will be bringing to the house to honor her. The doors will be open all night long to allow for visits to come in from the streets. A black bow will be hung outside the window and front door and one of my cousins will probably make tamales and atole for the kids. My mom hates atole so they might make Abuelita hot chocolate for her. The adults usually drink coffee but she hates coffee.
tomorrow they will cremate her. if you have ever seen someone cremated they sit up and move, it is horrying to watch. you want to go in and rescue them from the fire that consumes them...
A mariachi will play "las golondrinas" and people will cry.
and i wont be there.
i called washington DC but they need proof of her death from a hospital.. well that isnt going to happen.
she died at home and will be seen at home, thats the way things works there...
they arent going to take her to a hospital, she died peacefully in her sleep and in her bed. i guess one couldnt ask for anything more. i wouldnt want her taken to a hospital either. those places are evil and it isnt like they can do anything for her now.
people will go to her home and see her in her bed. the bed that her and I slept together in so many years because we were both lonely in her big house so we always slept together to keep each other warm, especially during cold january nights like this one. It is an old full sized bed, the sheets probably have holes in them and the pillowcases dont match. she will probably be dressed up in a nice gown and her red hair will be curled and parted to one side. her green eyes will be shut but she will probably have some light eyeshadow on. She never wore eyeliner but my mother does, so she might force some on her... my mother will dress her and make sure she wears her favorite necklace. I am pretty sure she will wear the earrings that she wore when she married my grandfather, they were always her most treasured pair... even after he left her she claimed that he was the love of her life. He probably wont be there, I dont see why he would show up. She probably wont need lipstick, she never did.. her lips were naturally red and perfectly shaped.
the nightstands will have candles all around, lit each for one of us... for her family. people will bring food and gather around her bed. they will probably pray or sing.
there will be pictures of all of us, but mostly of me... i lived with her the longest and I loved her the most. She was the first person to show me it was ok to be me, regardless of even what my own mother said. She was the first person to tell me about my growing breasts and how they were normal. She showed me how to wash clothes by hand and how to fry an egg. She showed me the secret of good refried beans... and how to take menstrual blood off of your cloth pad. She grew up with them and knew the trick of taking stains out of everything. She was my safe haven when I ran away and she promised she would always be there for me when I needed her... and she was. She stood up to my mother about the way she was treating me.
the house will probably smell like Cempasuchitl, the marigold flower of death... calendula... that is what people will be bringing to the house to honor her. The doors will be open all night long to allow for visits to come in from the streets. A black bow will be hung outside the window and front door and one of my cousins will probably make tamales and atole for the kids. My mom hates atole so they might make Abuelita hot chocolate for her. The adults usually drink coffee but she hates coffee.
tomorrow they will cremate her. if you have ever seen someone cremated they sit up and move, it is horrying to watch. you want to go in and rescue them from the fire that consumes them...
A mariachi will play "las golondrinas" and people will cry.
and i wont be there.
