My grandmother Rebeca died and what I remember most about her is her generosity. She raised me, and taught me how to draw, and loved me without asking for anything back.
The funeral was full of friends and family. There were lots of people smiling and crying. I have never understood the reason for a funeral, for a ritual of saying “adios”, but I learned in my grandma’s funeral that: if you think hatred is a great drive, you should experience love.
Love and generosity are the ultimate drive in my life.
When I got back to Miami, I wrote this:
Murió mi abuela Rebeca
y se diluyó en la eternidad.
El silencio venció
la voluntad de latir.
Vi su cuerpo desilflarse
como una bolsa vacía.
Vi su cuerpo cubierto
con una sábana de flores.
La maquillaron con polvos rojos
que le llevé de regalo.
Le devolví para siempre