Boa Noite, Titia Georgina

Last night I attended the wake of my Titia (aunt) Georgina. She was my grandmother's sister. She was 93, dying just shy of her 94th birthday on September 11th (poor thing had that birthday for almost 90 years before that date took on a whole new meaning.) My great-aunt was a wonderful woman.

A couple of years ago, she started to crochet blankets for all of her great nieces and nephews getting married. I don't even know how many she crocheted...a lot. She even crocheted one in advance for my cousin Mark, in case she wasn't around for his wedding (she won't be... he's still unmarried.) I admire a woman who plans ahead.

My mom would talk to my aunt periodically, updating her about all of us. My aunt would tell my mother how nice it was that I spoke such good Portuguese. I don't speak much Portuguese at all but every time I would see her, I'd engage in active 'Portuguese listening', saying "Ah" and "Aww" with the correct intonation and head nod. Portuguese old ladies love to talk, they don't necessarily need you to participate, as long as you are there listening that's good enough.

My grandmother was one of 10 siblings (8 girls and 2 boys.) They all emigrated, at different times, from the Azorean island of San Miguel, Portugal. They were all really close their entire lives. There are now 2 sisters and one brother left.

Every time I see my grandmother's siblings, I hug them tightly, not wanting to let go. By holding them close, it's as if a little piece of me is touching my grandmother and grandfather again. I miss them.

Last night, I was talking to my Titia Georgina's grand-daughter, my second cousin. She told me about her grandmother's last hours. While in her bed, eyes closed, she whispered, Minha mãe está chamando (English translation: My mother is calling me.) I can't stop thinking about that phrase and repeating it. (It is much more melodic in Portuguese.)

No matter how old you are, you are always someone's daughter. You might be separated by death but you will always return to your mother's embrace.

** My uncle, sister, and I shared a funny moment while waiting to pay our respects. We were talking about the fine line between a Portuguese wake and wedding. (You can really insert any ethnicity there.) Nowadays wakes are the only event where you you see extended family members so there's often lots of hugging, laughing, opening up of wallets to show off the latest kids, grandkids, and great grandkids. We concluded that the major difference between the wake and the wedding (save for the obvious casket) is that you don't bring your camera to the wake.**