Her house is on a hill, next to the forest and there is a small water stream in her backyard. She lives on a farm where she has all kinds of trees.
Growing up, I ate cherries from a cherry tree, I picked apples from an apple tree, I picked grapes straight from the vine. Plums, pears, strawberries, apricots, all these she had in her backyard. At her house I learned how to milk a cow and how to harvest corn. But most of all, in her house I learned how to be free. To this day, her house is the only place I truly feel at home. My parents house is ok, it reminds of good and bad times. The house we live in now, is good and pretty, but only my baby and my husband make it home. My grandma's house is part of my soul. It's small and old, the beds are hard and dusty. But only there I can listen to the wind and watch the sunset and feel at peace.
I spent parts of my childhood summers there, with my sister. We were allowed to everything we wanted: to clean, to make a mess, to scream, to sing. We knew every corner of the house, every drawer and every shirt our grandma had. She never once told us not to touch something. She always said: this is all yours. And because of that, we cherished everything even more. Instead of making a mess, we were cleaning, instead of screaming we were singing, instead of playing harsh, mean games, we wanted to help. Everything that is good in me today has the roots in that house and in the loving I received there.
My grandma was dealt a harsh hand in life. She was widowed when she was 50 and never remarried. I barely remember my grandfather. He went away when I was 6. He was also a very kind soul, but he was sick most of his life. The only thing I remember about him was eating fried mushrooms together. My grandma gave birth to 9 children. She lost 3 of them before they were two years old. Her forth loss, my very dear aunt Tatiana went away at 37. That almost broke my grandma's spirit, and everybody else's in the family.
With all this, my grandma knew how to sing and dance, how to hug and kiss, how to curse and forgive 5 minutes later. She worked hard all her life. She has a big farm and she worked the land by herself well into her 70's. She had all sorts of animals she tended to (cows, sheep, pigs, chicken, geese, turkeys and what not).
My grandma is 83 now. She's weaker and in pain a lot of the days. I miss her a lot and I know she misses me and my sister a lot also. We are part of her heart, just like she is part of ours. And we are an ocean away. We talk on the phone and I pray that God will keep her so Catalina will remember her just the way I do: a strong, beautiful soul, who's not afraid to tell you the truth in your face, but who will never hurt you on purpose. A woman who took care of herself and the whole family, in a time when this was a man's job. A woman who loved beyond limits and gave herself to her children and grandchildren. I feel so blessed to have met her and to be so loved by her.
Here are 4 generations of beautiful strong women. Too bad my sister is missing, then the picture would have been perfect. Maybe I'll try photoshop :)
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