Written by my sister, translated by me, as I couldn’t have said it better.
The picture shows grandma with me and my siblings. I’m the very skinny one in yellow next to her.
I had 2 grandmas that taught me a lot.
One was an artist, sort of an airhead. On her house we had no set time to sleep, to eat, or to study. “The” right way of doing things did not exist, what existed was the new way, the way we were still to come up with. She used to give me paintbrushes, paint, clay, scraps of cloth and knitting needles. She taught me that the world inside of us is infinite.
My other grandma, the one I picked, was strong, intelligent and honest. On her house we had a set time for everything, there were closets and rooms off limits, conversations held in French so the kids would not understand. She showed me how to be polite, how to speak English, pictures and books of her travels. She taught me that the world outside of us is infinite.
I had a third grandma that used to intrigue me. During her life she shared very little with me and the other grandkids. She never told us stories from her youth, she never taught me how to make those beef croquettes, she didn’t have the time and she didn’t want to. On her house, we watched TV and felt bored.
A few years ago, when she suffered the first stroke that put her on a health state that would eventually take her, I understood what was it that she has taught me. My third grandma taught me to resist. To have the courage to take whatever comes to our lives. Celina resisted and held on to life until yesterday, at 93 years of age. Always with that look of wanting more and wishing to stay forever. Kisses, grandma.
(the second grandma she said she picked was our grand aunt. the same one I remembered here recently too)