My Dearest Dead Grandma in Musings

Once upon a time there was a little Puerto Rican boy who met his beautiful grandmother… she was heavy chested and her hips were wide—after all she beared 23 children. Her hair was crimped and silver and tied into a braid that reached below her hips.
She bathed this little Puerto Rican boy, who came from New York, she washed his back with a rag and bar soap, she sternly said “alright your clean, but wash that by yourself!” She said pointing at his private parts. “Lift that and put soap!” She said as she dropped cold water over his groin. “Okay! Now put this and scrub between the balls and the butt papi!” She said as she passed a soapy rag to his little hands.
“Okay!” She said as she cupped water rinsing his little body “look at how handsome my little ‘negrito’ is” she said as she wrapped a towel around him and walked him to her bedroom.
Her hands felt like pumice stones as she grazed my face. She smelled like cigars and cilantro. Her nightgown smelled like wind and sun.
“Ok papi, dry yourself good! Dry that really well, you understand?!” She said pointing to my crotch… as I dried it and stood naked inFront of her, she squatted placing my feet into the holes of my Spider-Man underwear.
“Now your good!” She said as she dried me roughly with the towel.
She stared into my eyes and pulled my chin with her hands to look at her face.
“You have the eyes that will need a lot, but will never be fulfilled. You will always suffer my little heart” she said as she put on my shirt.
I was too timid to say anything to her, she was an idol to me, and continues to be.
She brushed my hair and I looked up at her… “grandma! My hair goes here!” I said as I showed her my side parting.
“Well, your hair is going to go here now” she said parting my hair down the middle… “you don’t belong here, you never belonged to her my sweetest child, but you always and forever will belong to me” she said parting my hair in the middle. “You will always be mine, don’t ever be afraid because you are mine, mine, all mine!” She said squeezing my face and lightly slapping me. “Get out of here! You little precious!” And I ran out of the room…and since that day all of my life has been a blur…

She died the next summer… and I didn’t know what death was and people prayed and prayed with her open casket, mourning… I would talk to her in her casket and I didn’t understand death… and I still don’t 30 years later…

I was put under psychiatric and psychological analysis because I know I was talking to her… I would tell my family things that there was no way that I would know at 6-7 years old…
She told me to be quiet… to circumvent any issues that would take me away from my family… and I did…

She guided me into puberty… she guided me through homelessness, she guided me into my career and into my decision to forego studying abroad because of my mother’s Alzheimer’s…
She’s haunted me… and not really haunted because I am not afraid of her spirit…

Liam understands this weird Puerto Rican spiritual witchcraft, and doesn’t think I’m crazy…

The strongest memory that a person has is not visual, auditory or dictated by sensory perceptions—the strongest memory a human being has is olfactory… and every single fucking time I smell cilantro,not processed by a machine, but grated by a pestle and mortar, every time I smell hang dried clothing—hung to dry in the wind and the sun—there’s a very specific scent that the wind has and the sun has on cotton clothing—I know Abuela Carmen is there… it could be the dead of winter and a gust of 25 degree wind passes by and it smells like her, I know She is telling me “your doing good my beautiful grand baby” or “your not doing good my grand baby, just flee!”

Once upon a time, a beautiful alien boy, met a beautiful Alien woman… and he was her beautiful Alien grandchild— she knew that his spirit would suffer and she sacrificed her afterlife to care for him…

I don’t know where she is buried, because we were too poor to buy her a plot of land… but what I do know if that I need to find her lovely bones, and finally set her free from this world…

Thank you Abuela Carmen for protecting me, for choosing me out of all of your grandkids and your kids…I promise to find your grave, and I promise that you will be released even if it takes me to my own dying grave… thank you. I love you more than words can ever say and beyond eternity…

I will find your grave… I will erect a monument and you will find your peace.

Love always,

Tu Negrito, el bobo, el nene
Andy

Last updated December 28, 2019