Dear Grandmothers,
Your photos have been framed and placed above the piano for years, but it's only recently that I've really come to notice them. You see, my parents, your children, are now old and I'm suddenly like a mommy, caring for all their needs and wishes.
I sigh when I see your beautiful faces. You were both young, full of hopes and dreams. I say to myself, "I wish you were here." I ask you: "Are you looking at us from above?"
The thought gives me comfort.
I'll never have children of my own. The chord has been snapped forever. And as I witness my parents take their slow steps to the end of their days, I'm missing both of you terribly, mourning your deaths decades after your passing, all the more so because I never had the chance to meet you. Disease and exile kept us apart.
If you can somehow read my heart's message, know that I send it with endless love.
Maria de los Angeles
As a full-time caregiver now, I've had to take a leave of absence from work while I figure out what's next. I don't really have a hands-on support system yet, so posting here will be spotty until I can get back into a routine. Although being single and a caregiver isn't easy, I still haven't lost my sense of humor, so you can find occasional short bursts over at I Like Sex and the Beach on Facebook. If Twitter is your thing, follow @vicequeenmaria.
I want to thank all my friends who have reached out to me. Your moral support and advice means so much.
