Every single day I miss my grandma, mi abue. Every day I think about her, and I wish I could be with her. But yesterday, I realized that maybe it’s better that I’m far away. I immediately feel guilty after writing the last sentence.
My abue is sick, I think she has some sort of dementia. I’m not sure, and I don’t think my family knows the facts. But she is not the same abue I left in August 2007 when I immigrated to Canada; she isn’t the same that I’ve only visited once in 2010. This year she’ll be 80, she was born in 1934.
Yesterday when I was on Skype with my mum and brother I told them about this wonderful garlic soup -with delicious bread croutons-, that my abue used to make. I also told them about this memory I have of my abue, organizing a party for my Avi where she served zucchini flower and huitlacoche crepes. Right after my story, my brother and mum said tu abue can’t to anything now, you can’t count on her at all. And I felt so deeply sad.
I know my mum and brother are with her every day, they are the ones that need to repeat to my abue around 20 times that lunch has been taken care of. I know that my mum can’t ask my abue to even chop onions or make the lime water because my grandma doesn’t remember how to do it, and if she sort of does, she simply doesn’t care at all. Her brain works differently now. We all know it.
It makes me so sad to know that, when my abue dies, my mum’s and brother’s memories will be of my abue’s last years, when she was repetitive and unfocused, when she wasn’t able to take a note after a phone call.
I guess I’m happy I don’t have those memories. In my mind, I can easily remember being little and being baking pound cake with her, or how she used to force me to eat so I wouldn’t become anemic (here, nobody forces me to do so I’m always anemic). I remember my abue and me watching soap-operas and talking about my classmates. I always loved to go downtown Puebla with her and have coffee while talking for hours.
There is nothing I can’t do for my abue right now, but I wish I could. This afternoon I wish I could be there with her, eating warm empanadas that we’ve just baked.