The Loss of My Abuelita; Part 2

Continued.....

Driving all over Clairemont looking for a tire shop that would sell me two tires for the change I had in my pocket. I had no luck until finally I remembered a shop that I had driven past a hundred times. I drove into the small parking lot and I took a deep breath before I walked out. I was nervous but I asked him how much and as he went from one side of the car to the other I hoped that this was it so I could begin the drive. The bright sun in his now squinted eyes looking my direction now. Sixty was exactly how much I had in my pocket. Done deal. I moved the car into the garage and sat on a rusty old bench they deemed their waiting area. I felt as thin and fragile as a gift wrap paper. Any slight move I'd tear or blow away. Careful. Gentle. 20 minutes later and he came up to me letting me know it was ready yet it somehow didn't process so I sat there looking up at him as fragile as I'd ever been to be suddenly awakened by a sudden jolt of his apathetic voice repeating to me that my car was ready. "Okay...okay" I said a little bruised by his flat tone. I paid him and as I drove off tears began to fall again. I was ready to start my journey to El Centro but my anxiety was filling me up and I was on the verge of a panic attack. I had no where to go. No one to turn to. So I did what every other person would do and I went to the Post Office. 

I don't know what it was but something about going there felt safe.To my surprise there was a notice that I recieved a package. I closed up my box and gave the bookmark resembling slip to the clerk. She came back with a small brown box. I tore open the box as soon as I got in the car. It was from my friend Reyna she had sent me some stuff to keep warm because she knows how cold it gets in the car. I smiled weakly to myself remembering how optimistic she is and how it couldn't have come at a better time. It was just the gesture I needed to gain confidence to start my trip. I got on the I8 east to begin my journey. 

Two and a half hours later even with my fervor speed of 70mph the winds were too strong which forced me to slow down quite a bit.  I arrived and instead of having the need to flee to my family I wanted to be alone. My mom called and said they were at the big park in the middle of town. Memories of spending time there as a child flood me. I park in the parking lot away from where I know my family is and I sit there and cry. My migraine pounding my head from the crying on the way here and my dry cracked lips from severe dehydration. 

She's gone. She's really gone.

I sit in my car and stare at the trees swaying in the breeze. My phone continues to ring and I keep letting the calls go to voicemail. I don't want to speak with anyone. I can recognize my feelings of anger which makes me cry even more. I'm mad at everyone. Its us against the world but its also not because my grandmas gone so now its just me or so it felt.

Its dark now and I think its finally time to drive to her house. I'm panicking because this will be my first time going to her house without her being there. In fact she will never be there ever again. I can hear my brothers and mom outside on the porch having a conversation. I slink down in my seat and continue crying. My mom comes and brings me Penny and she greets me with kisses and then begins to play with Percy. My migraine is unbearable at this point so I go buy some tylenol. I fall asleep slouched in my car with Penny and Percy cuddled in my lap. I am in and out sleep and counting down the minutes until I can take some more tylenol. The next morning we rent a hotel for a night because I'm not the only one who can't bare being there and all of us are exhausted from grief. My brothers eyes are red and swollen and my mom is in shock. No one slept again. We weren't speaking with anyone outside of us and none of us want to. 

Funny how people start caring when you're already gone. 

We didn't go to the funeral or the wake because we weren't getting along with the rest of our family. We had our own weekend of being together and holding space. Perhaps I will go into that in the last part of the series.

Thanks for making it to the end. 

Please stay tuned for the next post that will have some of my abuelas life story.