02/23/2008
Carmen
Carmen, my first old lady after my beloved Tia, would have been 102 years old today. I met her in Vicente Lopez, when I was doing errands. She lived in a filthy, cockroach-filled apt. The apt. belonged to her niece. One day the neighbors alerted Carmen’s niece to the fact that sometimes Carmen forgot to turn off the gas. That’s when she was taken to a nursing home. Carmen’s retirement check paid for her room and board there. I would go visit her once a week. She looked forward to my visits and I liked going to the neighborhood of Floresta in Buenos Aires. There were some beautiful houses from the late 19th and early 20th century that I enjoyed looking at. Carmen was so thin that when I hugged her I was afraid I would break her bones by accident. She had come to Argentina from Northern Spain in 1930 and when I knew her she still spoke with a thick Spanish accent—as if she had just gotten off the boat. Soon she was working as a maid for a wealthy family who had made money in the jewelry business.
I grew to care for her. When her niece put her in another nursing home, I followed her there. I ate dinner with her and the other nursing home residents. In 1993, we had a party to celebrate her birthday. She was happy and smiled for the camera.
One thing I am sad about is that I couldn’t be with her at the end. It was necessary for me to travel back to the US. They told me that she asked to see me. I am very sorry that I wasn’t able to hold her hand and kiss her goodbye. She was a feisty, smart old lady.
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02/20/2008
Beccar
February 20, 2008: There once was a place named Beccar. It was sunny and bright and happy (most of the time). Beccar was my fairy tale, but since it was also part of real life, a few drops of rain fell once in a while and I had to take better care of myself.
Beccar was my introduction to the real world.I felt things pulling me towards it, things pulling me in another direction.My heart told me that was where I wanted to be and I paid attention. I had a hunch that the experience could not be repeated.
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02/12/2008
Like Nadia
February 11, 2008:The not so old woman got nervous and said: Coming! Coming! in a loud, nervous voice. Why am I getting so nervous, she thought. This is how Nadia acted just before she died. I want to go there! I don't want to miss anything. Hurry! Hurry! She tripped and fell.
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02/10/2008
My Abuse
Emotional abuse was an unheard of thing in those days. It must have existed, but nobody talked about it. How many little girls my age and younger got the same type of emotional beating I did? How many hated to go back home when their school day was over? My classmates all seemed happy, well-adjusted little girls with parents who loved each other.
I think that being abused emotionally can be worse (or just as bad) as having somebody beat you up because you did something naughty. It hurts your soul and ruins your self-esteem.
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12/08/2007
100 Years
Friday, December 7, 2007: He would have been 100 years old today. The man who used to pamper and spoil me so long ago would have celebrated his first humdred years. And he would have probably done it in Miami, in the land of fish and water and Collins Avenue. May he Rest in Peace! May he have a Miami up there in Heaven.
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