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. 

Life, Struggle, Love, Death - The Loss of My Abuela; Part 1

Sitting in my office chair instructing each single breath. In then out. In then out. Watching the life of the office continue on outside me like a movie. Losing my grip as everything starts to blur together. I grab Julieannes bicep and I look to her hoping to gain some stability. She looks to me eyes open wide in surprise as if by touch she could feel the despair. “What happened?!”

I look to her with my eyes glazed over in shock. my voice rigid and robotic “I just got a text, they are taking her in an ambulance. Shes unresponsive.” Julieanne sighs with sadness and says sorry. The seconds accumalate and she grabs the clients chart behind me as the doctor leaves it. I’m pale and out of breath. The doctor looks at me then to Julieanne asking a question with his eyes. I get up off my chair and walk around the corner where I’m out of sight from everyone. The bustle in the office lobby continuing. Dogs barking, the phone ringing and ringing.. I lean against the metal shelf trying to find a place for my hand to grip onto something. The breath in me fast yet shallow. I feel it take over me, a rush, a huge wave and it takes me down. I slide down until I’m on the cold cement floor. I can feel the dirt stick to my palms. I begin to sob and as soon as I start I’m unaware on how to stop and if I ever want to. I call Lori and ask her to come to me. I can hear her breath through the phone cut short. She agrees and makes me aware it will take her about an hour and a half. I agree. I just needed to go and I also needed someone to stay with me. Mark comes to the back room and tells me to do what I have to do. Of course I will I think to myself. Everything seems so trivial. Nothing else matters. This whole stupid vet office is so frikkin stupid and nothing even matters because I just lost…...her.

April 5, 2018 is the day I lost my Abuelita.

I sit outside near the back door of the building and I hug the tissue box as if it will save me. I look over the parking lot beneath me and I continue to sob. I’m aware the technicians inside can see me from the window and they can hear me but again nothing matters. All of my insecurities and all of my fears of letting people see me cry vanish. I use up the entire tissue box and Lori still isn’t here. My mom and Celest on thier way to El Centro and my brothers already there. I feel so alone. I continue to wait until finally I hear footsteps behind me then a hand on my shoulder and I look up to Lori my cheeks wet and heart broken. I walk to her car and open the door and it amazes me how everything still works. How my legs allow me to walk and my brain can still formulate a sentence. I am broken-shattered, I should not be able to continue functioning. Lori goes inside and asks Julieanne for the rest of my stuff. She comes back and I can feel the vibration of the engine stream through me. She starts to drive and I slunch down in the chair and curl up. She drives until shes found a resteraunt. I have a migraine now and every movement is physically painful but it feels right this cohesion with how I felt on the inside. She gives me a shake as I drift in and out of sleep. I leave Percy inside the car. Lori made sure to park in the shade as to not worry me. We walk to the Pho restaraunt and I am in a daze. Nothing is real yet everything magnified at the same time. Lori apparently had been calling my name and I heard none of it. She grabs me roughly by my bicep and pulls me to her side and leads me out of the way to an oncoming car. Oh, sorry I turn and say still not paying attention. We sit in the corner and I make sure to choose the seat where I can lean against the wall because holding myself up is something I was quickly forgetting how to do. Lori places her order and I get some hot tea to help with my stomach ache I’ve now developed. I look to the people sitting around and as if asking them with my eyes how can you guys act like everythings normal when NOTHING is normal. Dont you guys know?? Doesn’t everybody know my grandma is dying??!! I tell Lori that I might throw up and I see the panic set in her eyes. She hands me the keys and I leave miraculously finding my way back to her car. She stays to pack up the food. She drives me to the Jack in The Box praking lot where my car is. Where we stay. I’m curled up on the seat again and I cry and I am in and out of consciousness. She tells me its time to go pick up her mom and she has to leave me. I didn’t understand how she could leave me at such a time. I can’t be alone rightnow tell your mom to figure something else out I wanted to whimper. My whole body aching and the sadness swallowing me whole. Abandonded, again. I surrendered and went to my car. Lori drove off and I curled up in my chair tucking my head into my chest. Percy trying to cool off in the back of the car as Im sure it was a good 90 degrees out and in the shade we were not. I heard the twinkle of my phone indicating a text. I shut my eyes as tight as I could because I knew that any news now would’nt be any better. I mustered what courage I had left in me and looked at my phone. It was from my mom and the texts read, “I am halfway to El Centro. “ And then the last one.. “Just got the call. Shes gone.”

All I remember was the feeling of a bullet going straight through my heart. I can’t breathe. I was yelling and crying oblivious to the fact my windows were open and people were listening. I can’t breathe. Where am I? Percy? How do you breathe again?? I’m light headed. Will I pass out in this oven of a car? OH, well good thats fine let me pass out. Wait, no...Percys here he’ll die in this heat. Call the ambulance. I fumble for my phone and everythings blurry. WHERE AM I?? I begin to dial 911 then I stop and think what I would tell the operator. Hi, my grandma just died and I can’t remeber how to breathe please hurry? No. No. Plus, what would happen with Percy? I try to calm myself through the sobs. I remember that I can call somebody and even though Im uncomfortable with it I can ask for help. I look through my contacts as I realize I have people in my phone but none of them are someone I can confide in. I call my friend Carrrie and she doesn’t answer. I call my friend Lyz and she doesn’t answer either. I text Julieanne and shes not available. Lyz texts me back and ask me whats wrong. I tell her and as I read that shes in Denver I begin to cry again. I am all alone. Am I breathing? Oh yeah, I should probably be doing that.
I sob for another 30 minutes and my heads pounding as if any second it could burst and my shirts wet from both tears and sweat. Percy is dying for water. I gather myself as much I could and went inside the Jack in The Box to get Percy water. Then I decide that I need to drive to El Centro. Now. I needed to leave. Im here alone and this isnt working. Fuck work. I need tires before I go. Two front tires. Lets do this. I turn on my car trying to stay focused to the task at hand then drive off...

Part 2 coming soon.

(I am doing all this off my phone so bear with me. Thanks)

It Doesnt Always Rain Like It Thunders

I know I have been missing posts on Friday and well turns out that with my laptop being out of order its a lot harder and close to impossible to get posts done. I am still awaiting a miracle when it comes to my dear laptop.

If you have netflix I suggest you go watch "The Breadwinner" it is an amazing, really well choreographed story. Which is, by the way, where my title came from. The main character is a young girl whose father is imprisoned without charge and so she pretends to be a boy in order to work and get money to feed her family. Its a story that I believe everyone should see. This is a narrative that is ever rarely if at all given a chance to be seen and showcased on such a platform.  Anyway, it inspired me to come on here and write. SO here I am.

I have had quite a week where my work situatiin isnt getting any better. The coworker that has been making work life unbearable seems to be unable to work in a profesional manner. Just on Friday as I was sitting in the employees lounge eating after my shift she came and began to complain very loudly to me. After letting her kniw that because she was beijg unreceptive that I was not and would not participate in a conversation with her but still she went on, I was so close to cussing her out and any minute more I would have gotten out of my chair and slapped her. But because surprisingly I know how be professional and act like an adult, I didnt. I didnt want to incriminate myself with such a reaction that she could use later on against me in her will to tear me down. With three tacos in my belly I stormed out of there.

As I thought about what happened through the rest of the day I realized I felt like screaming "I quit" because of the lack of consequences that my intolerable coworker recieves. I although for one didnt want to give her the satisfaction, again, because by the way a coworker has already quit before due to a similiar situation and second my family and I cannot afford for me to quit. I can barely afford life now and I get paid!

Also, my car needs more work done and although it takes all my time and money, did I mention money? I have to do it. This car is our entire life. Without it our lives would go from kinda shitty and tough to what else is there besides shitty and shitty again? So I am doing it little by little. Getting car parts one at a time and having to wait until I have a pair or so to begin repairs. Things take time, I know, I just hope that my car can hold it together inbetween times.

I also finally went and got us some gym memberships. We came to the point where we were running on 2 weeks without a shower and I had run out of friends to ask. Friends who were readily willing and available. Its going to become an extra big expense but I feel like we've gotten some of ourselves back with it. The feeling of not being in control of your hygeine is a heavy and tasking weight for a person. The feeling of not being able to enjoy the shower for fear of taking too long or making too much noise takes from a person.

Take. Take. Take.

Seems like all everything knows how to do is take and you have to constantly rearrange the pieces to keep from crumbling over.

I think thats where exhaustion is. In the rearranging of ourselves. As creatures of habit the unavoidable everchanging rhythm of life keep us on our spirtual toes. Right when we think we got it handled and coherent something goes awrye. But I also think thats where our power is made. We become imaginative and resourceful. Resilient.

We get taken from and so we find a new way to recieve. 

Before I start to overthink everything here I want to say that I think everytime I feel like crumbling, I do, but then I re-adjust. re-arrange and without even realizing it I get on my way again.

 I think people are graceful in that way, in all of our clumsy dances to find out we can in all the moments we thought we couldn't.


Song of the week:

Sweet Creature - Harry Styles

Until next time
-Analaura

What Makes Us Feel Okay

Photo taken by L.M.

So with my laptop still being "under the weather" I have resorted to my tablet until further notice. Which in retrospect sounds a bit privileged so I will refrain my complaints about this.

This week I wanted to explore the idea of what makes us feel "okay" in the context of when someone is particularly unhappy. What relieves the ache. What diffuses. What allows us to breathe again. What in the middle of everything can make us feel like we can easily take a breathe again.

I know the answers are different and ever changing for everybody so please know that what diffuses for me may/can/will be different to what diffuses for you.

I find myself always at a constant of searching for more in myself than the numb and sadness. What else is in that huge hoarding pile of feelings. There has to be joy or peace or something like that somewhere in here. I always seem to be blind to it as if my sight is selective. I think from feeling numb for so long I've felt at a loss when it comes to much else. I mean I let out a laugh or two day to day and find amusement in random things. I feel kindness to my friends so I get stumped when I think back to those things and try to convince myself that is one of the many ways joy can look like. I seem to feel this emotion that can't be described in any other way than the lazily shrugging of shoulders. Its like I remain unmoved by the evidence that joy is not the stranger I claim it to be.

Hey, um didnt you hear???? You aren't just a walking talking robot built from fuckery buuut nope all that I get is just the metaphorical shrugging of my souls shoulders

I think I can come to discover that I can feel much more than what my current range of emotion allows me to. I think I have to become more trusting and believe that the times of laughter and kindness and peace are not or will not ever be forgotten by my soul. Perhaps my soul has found the loop hole to misery. MAYBE just maybe this entire time I thought I was failing at feeling okay I had been completely ignoring the fact that I was even able to participate.

This week has been pretty straighforward. Go to work, get out, pick up Celest, go get some wifi then head to our designated lot for the night. Of course days like yesterday when we went from picking up Celest to the storage right up until they closed is a nice change of pace. My work week hasn't been stressful, I actually really enjoy my co-workers company so when I get to work with her 3-4 days out of the six days I'm at work I'm grateful. I made a co-worker laugh once or twice and that always make me feel okay for a couple seconds. It reminds me that I can be funny. My dogs are always happy to see me and taking them to an empty park where they just ran around made me so happy. You should have seen their faces. Watching new episodes of our favorite shows on netflix and hulu with my mom and Celest make me feel okay. Hearing from Lori, my best friend, makes me feel okay. Organizing things putting them where they belong or making a space for something is comforting to me.

We often go to our favorite thrift store and so often I see small dining sets and wooden bookshelves that if I had a home I would refurbish and that does not make me feel okay. In fact it tears me a part inside because I'd like to have a home that I can make homey but instead I stand back and watch everyone else do it for theirs.

My sadness is ever present but hopefully I will never stop looking for the things that make me feel okay. We need those things after all so recognizing what those things actually ARE is really important. Maybe one day I can look back to the things that make me feel okay and not have a shrugging of shoulders reaction. Maybe I can have the reaction that my dogs have after running around at the park. Pure contentment.

One can only hope.

I hope to have a more interesting in depth much more revised post next week but for now this is all I got. Sorry, kinda.

Until next Friday,

-Analaura

Songs of the week:

Stay- Sara Bareilles

My Love Is Like A Star - Demi Lovato