A few days ago marked the anniversary of an extremely sad day 43 years ago.  I began remembering experiences; important experiences which forever influenced my life.  At the time I was listening to the soundtrack of Forrest Gump; a wonderful soundtrack to the events playing out in my mind.

There was once a time, I’m thinking I was 12.   Robert was showing me different card tricks.  Some of them were simple.  “Here, take a card, any card.”  He would hold the deck it in such a way that I really could only take one card.   I am pretty sure that trick, I figured out on my own.   The tricks got a little more impressive.  Again, he would say: “Here, take a card, any card.”  This time he was more generous in providing choices.  He was less generous in where in the deck I could put the chosen card back.  I think I pretty much figured that one out too.  I think Robert was actually trying to determine if I realized what he was doing.  Since I really wanted to impress him, maybe that is just what I thought.  

Now, I suspect he was just messing around.   

All the tricks I was able to figure out; let’s face it they were not very difficult.   There was one trick however that I just could not.  He would have a deck of cards; it was not a complete deck.   He would say: take a card, memorize the card and put it back in the deck.  Shuffle the deck as much as you want.   Return the deck to me.  He would then say; now, one by one I am going to distribute the cards into three piles.   Wait until I have finished distributing the cards among the decks and after I have finished, tell me into which deck the card was placed.  He would then carefully reassemble the deck and distribute the cards again.  He would go through this process a total of three times.  He would then tell me:  “This is the card you chose” while holding up that same card. 

I could not figure it out how he did it.  I then spent some time trying to figure it out.   I could not.   Mom noticed what I was doing.  I told her and asked if she knew how the trick was done.  She did not know.

I was frustrated.  I think she realized it.

So she said we will figure it out.  I had my doubts.

She asked me to do everything Robert did, but this time, lets follow what happens to the card.  In less than 10 minutes we figured it out.  We realized you could only use 21 cards and after the whole process it was the 11^th card on the deck.  Mom told me not to tell Robert that she helped me figure it out. 

At that time, I was so impressed by the trick.  I was happy Mom and I figured out how it was done.  I showed Robert that I had figured out.  He was impressed.

That day I learned a lot.   

I realized how smart my mom was.

I miss you Robert.  I miss you Mom.

My niece, Emily, wrote this poem for a homework assignment. I think it is a beautiful poem.

I am from an elongated island-
South of my new home
(The nation with one white star)
Where the ruler tells me what to do,
And where freedom isn’t promised
And where dreams aren’t fulfilled

I am from boats carrying me to freedom
(To the nation with 50 white stars)
To escape the ruler
And to reach the land of the dreams
I am from looking to the cross for hope
I am from ending suffering;
And from gaining hope
I am from losing everything
And having nothing
With 9 mouths to feed
I am from two jobs per parent
And kids working at the age of 14,
From not knowing the words of the land
I am from the struggle and the heartache
That my ancestors went through, to get to where I am today.
I am Saturday night pizzas at my abuelas house;
And going on Naple trips every summer
When my cousins come down from D.C.
I am from family pictures by the mall
And making human pyramids in the backroom.
I am in the land of the free

- Emily Muniz 

On Friday night I read on Facebook that the BBC had announced the death of Fidel Castro

On Friday night I read on Facebook that the BBC had announced the death of Fidel Castro.  Frankly, at the time I did not know how to react.  I had kind of put him in the back of my mind; not thinking about him at all.  I started thinking back to my childhood, how he had influenced all our lives.  A lot of memories surged.

One of the first memories I have as a child in El Reparto Nautico in Cuba was going to my grandfather’s house, it was across the street from my own.   Someone  said ¿Que tiempo lleva hablando? (For how long has he been speaking?).  Fidel Castro was speaking to the nation.  He did this often.  To me it just meant one thing, my parents and grandparents and most of the neighbors would be in a bad mood.  As a 5 year old in 1963 I did not like Fidel Castro for many reasons.  That was just one of them. 

I have a large family.  At the time we were seven siblings.  The family had been separated.  My parents, not wanting Robert to be placed in the “pioneros” (pioneers), sent him and my sister Teresa to the United States via the Peter Pan Project in 1961.   Robert was 8 years old at the time; Teresa 6.  I would not see them for 4 years.  I also had 11 paternal cousins which lived in the same street. All of them had left to “Miami”.  This was another reason I did not like Fidel.

I vaguely remembered my aunts and uncles.   Tia Futi lived in the corner.  She used to make boniatos.  Tia Amada and Tio Aristides lived at the entrance to el rio Qiuibu.  This was in the same neighborhood but further south from our home.   My dad would go sometimes to get coconuts from the back of their house.   They had moved to Miami.  The current occupants, my dad knew, and would let him get the coconuts.   Tio Lulo and Tio Eduardo, I remembered better.  Perhaps it is because they lived next door and I would spend  a lot of time with their kids.  All of them were now in Miami.  I had four other cousins who lived in Vedado.   We would still see each other on Sundays and had a lot of fun together.  In 1965, they would leave for Monterey Mexico two days before we left to Madrid, Spain.   I always thought we would see each other in Miami.  My mom told me in the Airport in La Habana that they were going to stay in Monterey.  I was even more worried since they  had taken my grandmother, abuela Julia, with them.  I would not see those cousins again for a long time.  Another aunt had to leave for Bogota, Colombia; since Tia Maria was a nun, she was thrown out of the country.   I heard my mom and dad talking about having to hide her in the house.  Another uncle and aunt went to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  

The neighborhood I grew up in was idyllic.   I remember walking in the north sidewalk and I could see the Caribbean Sea.   I could not believe that 90 miles from there, is where most of my family was living. My neighbors kept getting replaced.   I would go to sleep one night and the next day I had different neighbors.  One night Tio Eduardo and Tia Irene were replaced by Anita e Isaac. Another night It was Tio Lulo and Tia China.   Although most of the new neighbors were great we had to be careful what we said.   One would never know which neighbor was ñángara and which one was gusano.  One time Carlos and I were playing with two cans and a string (communication device) and commenting on how horrible the regimen was.  Someone overhead us.  Luckily they were gusanos.  They spoke to my mom and dad, because they worried that a ñángara would overhear us.  This is how many people would end up as political prisoners.   The children would then be raised as pioneros.   We had to be very careful what we said, even while playing with our friends.  Our friends were just children but they could repeat what was said to their parents.  Having to be that careful in expressing ourselves was not pleasant.  For this reason Carlos and I never went to school in Cuba.  The teachers would try to get information from the students and see if an intervention was needed.  Once you were a pionero, you would be brainwashed into a different way of thinking.   You would then always be a pionero.

My father would play Dominos with his friends at “La Casa de Arias”.   On the way home and walking around the neighborhood he would talk about each of the houses.   We would go by la casa de tio Eduardo, la casa de tio Lulo, la casa de tia Amaya, ……Every house now had another family living in it, a different family.  I blamed Fidel for separating my family and spreading them all over the world.  I still do.

In 1965, my mom, dad, brothers and sisters, Abuelo Arturo, and Abuela Maximina all left for Spain.  We stayed in Spain for three months and arrived in Miami on November 15, 1965. 

I cannot say that I long for my life in Cuba.  My life is good.  My brothers and sisters and their families are well adjusted, each with their own set of problems, dealing with them as best they can.   I cannot say that because of Fidel we have had a rough life; although it is different to be sure.  

When Castro took over in 1959, my parents were 31 and 29 years old.  They were just getting started.   They were raising a family.  Dad used to work in the aqueducto (which I guess was the water company).   He worked there until someone saw a picture of “La Caridad del Cobre” on his windshield.  He was told to remove it or lose his job.  He lost his job.  I have the letter from the government official stating that el camarada Roberto Lopez del Valle was fired due to the incident. My dad was not allowed to work.  I do not even know what my dad’s life was before Fidel.  I was two when the revolution occurred.  I know the family lived comfortably. I remember a closet full of squash racquets.  He would still play sometimes.  I am not sure how we were able to survive.  I guess we still had some resources.  My dad would take us to a farm.    There I actually milked a cow.  I always wondered if it hurt the cow when I did that.  My dad would take Carlos, Turi and me to ride horses.  My mom was busy raising us.  She would usually stay home.   Mom and Dad would come into the United States to live in Miami, raising 7 children, two of which they had not seen in four years.  They had no jobs.  My dad worked as many as three jobs (I am not exaggerating) but usually only two to make ends meet.    He started as a dishwasher, then barboy at a Miami Beach Hotel. He also worked in a photodeveloping studio, at another hotel as a bell captain, then as an elevator operator.  My mom began babysitting for the guests of the hotel.  Afterwards she would work all night at a factory, then at the Post Office.  Mr. Castro’s revolution caused my parents to change overnight from a couple, just getting started, raising a family to a couple facing adversity, literally working their lives away to bring a better future to their family.   Their suffering, the trials they had to go through; for these I do blame Mr. Castro.

I never again saw my dad trying to get coconuts from the yard.   I never again saw him play dominoes with his friends.  I seldom saw him play squash or Jai Alai.  We never again rode horses with my father pulling the reins.  

Mom and Dad have since passed away.  Somehow, with the help of the church and the American Government, they were able to make it possible for us to attend private schools and for all of us to graduate from college.  I am very proud of my parents and my family.

I know a lot of people and their families have suffered much more than I have as a result of Mr. Castro’s revolution.

Today  I am thanking mom and dad for what they did for us. 

I do not really know why I am writing this.  It is just that when I heard Mr. Castro had died it brought a lot of these emotions back. I felt I had to write about  it. 

This entry is by Ana Maria Muniz Lopez. 
                                                              -Ramon

 

I just read Ramon’s entry “A Mom To Be Proud Of”.   As I usually do when I think of mom’s final days… I cried - which made me want to share 2 stories that often help me feel better when I miss my parents. 

Mom’s Farewell Message

 

The evening before mom passed away, I was at the hospital.  I took my turn to come to her room.  My mom did not look good.  Her eyes were open.  I could not stop obsessing that she was not blinking.  I hated that.  It felt to me like she was not in peace.  I knew there were a million other things wrong – but I was obsessed with that.  I wanted to see her in peace.  I wanted her to relax.  

I started to sing the refrain (which I thought was the whole song…)  of “On Eagle’s Wings”.  When I was young, I would often sing that song (refrain) to myself at night, whenever I was stressed about something that was keeping me awake.  It always gave me a sense of peace, a feeling that God was taking care of me.   I sang the refrain over and over again, wishing my mom would feel that God was looking after her; that should could relax and sleep.   

Armando came, having come directly from work.  I think Rosa was in the room as well.  Shortly after Armando came, I returned to the waiting room.  Someone mentioned my singing (I think Rosa), and asked me if I my goal was to bore her to sleep.  I said “yes”.  Ramon told me that the song was not that repetitive - there was much more to it.  I was shocked.  I had not heard the song in church in many years – but the refrain was all that I remembered, and I thought it was the whole song.

 

My mom passed away the next day.  The day after that, I went to church in the morning – to St. Max.   I thought, “I need to call them and let them know about mom.” I was surprised when the priest said her name  - the mass was being offered for her (Rosa must have called).  But what made me cry in the middle of mass, from incredible joy – was when they played the communion song – “On Eagle’s Wings”. 

 Ramon was right.  The song is more than just the refrain.

 I believe and will always believe that mom – as always  - was looking out for me.  She didn’t want me to worry.  She was in peace.

 

Dad’s Farewell Message

I’ve always felt that my dad had done something very similar.  He too found a way to ease my pain shortly after he passed away.

My dad went through a lot before he passed away – too many surgeries, with both legs having been partially amputated due to circulatory problems.  I know it sounds silly –but I was really worried – would dad be whole when he went to heaven?  I.e., would he have his legs back?

It was a few weeks after my dad passed away that I had a dream.  It was a strange dream because although even as I dreamt, I knew that I no longer lived at home, so why, when I finished jogging, did I come into my childhood home?   I don’t know.  But what really shocked me was seeing my dad there in the living room, in his rocking chair, with a big smile on his face.  I asked him what he was doing there… how could he be there?   He didn’t say anything, but stood up slowly.  I stared at his legs, and went running to hug him.  He had a big smile and opened his arms wide.  When I got to him and tried to hug him, it was empty air, and I woke up.  The dream had felt so real, it was painful to realize that it had been a dream.   

Then I thought … my dad had come  - to let me know… he was all good.

 

 Thank you,  Ana.

                                          -Ramon

 

A Mom to be proud of....

As Father Geordi was speaking, I could not help but wonder: How did we get to this?  

I looked around and saw Glenn and Chuckie beside me.   I felt smaller than I have ever felt. I knew my whole family was behind me.  I was proud to be there; it was almost a symbol of the changing of the generations; a changing of the guard. 

The whole thing started when Rosa called me one Thursday morning. I had gotten home very late the night before, taking care of Juan and Lourdes.  I had left my cell phone in my pants pocket.  I could tell by the ring tone it was Rosa.  It was 6:52 am.  I knew something was wrong.   I could not find the phone.  I realized where it was and literally dove out of my bed getting my phone.  Rosa said, "Abuela fell this morning.  She fell out of bed.   She broke her femur.  Juanpi is with her. "  I did not say much.  I was considering going over to the hospital.  I had to go be at class at 9:00 am.   I called Juanpi at the hospital.  He told me how it happened.  Lela was turning towards the other side of bed.  He heard a thud and the word Coño!   Juanpi called rescue (911).   The emergency service personnel were very good, Juanpi said.  He told me "Do not worry, everything is under control. There is no reason for you to come over."  I could tell he was trying to calm me down.  I was grateful he was doing it.  I hate to cancel class, particularly during the abbreviated summer semester. 

This seems like such a long time ago.  Too many things have happened since then.  

During Mom's hospital stay, I felt badly because I could not participate in taking care of mom as much as I wanted to.  When dad was sick I was always there.  I have always been proud of that.  I expected the same thing to happen when mom became ill.   I was not looking forward to doing so but I always expected to be more involved.  Juanpi and Rosa seemed to bear the brunt at first.  They did not complain.

That evening Rosa  called me and said "She is screaming inside the room, should I go in there?  I could not tell who was speaking.  Rosa was emotional and her voice was different.   I finally figured out who she was.  Apparently they were changing mom and as they had to move her; she was in tremendous pain.  Then mom was quiet and Rosa went in the room.  Rosa was so worried.  The next day Rosa asked me to go to the hospital.   She felt that mom would feel more comfortable with me since she seemed to trust me more than Rosa or Juanpi.  (this was only because Rosa and Juanpi were most often with her.  With her mental status, who she trusted seem to vary).  I got there and Mom was her usual self.  She was not in pain, as long as she did not move her leg.  The leg was in traction so as to keep it stretched and the bones more properly aligned.  At this time I did not realize the severity of the break.  I was more worried about bed sores, and being able to position her properly etc..   Juanpi and Rosa seemed to have everything under control.  They had the computer set up on Mom's left side.  An opera was playing through Itunes; I do not remember which one it was but I did enjoy hearing it.  It kind of reminded me of better times when mom and I would listen and watch operas together.  She always enjoyed that, both at home and at the Theater of the Performing Arts.  It was low enough in volume so as to not bother anyone, but loud enough for mom to hear the music.

I think I fell asleep in the chair next to mom.  A nurse saw me and said:  "is this the one? I will go over and clean her now." I guess Rosa had described me accurately.  I was getting apprehensive about this.    She did not seem to be the most sensitive of nurses.  She explained to me that what she was going to do; it was going to hurt;but she had to do it.  Ana was upset.   She let the nurse know.  I had never seen Ana that upset.  (Well I guess maybe i have but not as an adult)  She said some words to the nurse about sensitivity towards mom.  I do not think the nurse meant badly by it but I fully understood why Ana did what she did.  I was proud of her.   I also felt for the nurse, apparently she was hurt.  This made the nurse take a little longer in coming in to the room to change mom.  I was happy about this since I was now really getting worried.  I once broke a small bone in my foot.  It really was painful.  Can you imagine a femur?   How would I approach mom about this.  Then I copied my greatest teacher.....mom.  Once, a long time ago, I was going to have surgery myself.  Mom was with me.   They had to draw blood from me and I was really scared.  I was only six.   I was scared partly because I did not know what was going to happen.  A nurse had tried to do it and did not tell me what was going to happen and I panicked.   Ever since then I have always warned my children or my little brothers when something would hurt when some medical type thing was going to be done, at least they knew what to expect.  The nurses came in.  I started talking to mom.  Mami, estas enfermeras tienen que cambiar las sabanas.  Ellas tienen que asegurarse que no estes sucia.  Mom looked at me and said:  "Esta bien".   I went on talking and said"  "Mami, lo que ella van a hacer te va a doler y te va a doler bastante".   She turned more serious and just told me:  Esta bien.   The nurses came in and began, very gently to carry out what they had to do.......... The pain must have been dreadful....... .   I do not want to go into more detail since I am crying as I write this.   Once everything calmed down Mom said:  Ana Maria no esta ahi, verdad?  Ella no me ollo, verdad?  At first I was confused, then I then realized what she meant.   She always told me that Ana would get very nervous, it might affect her sugar.   I was amazed and shaken.  I kept thinking, did they really have to clean the sheets?  She was not soiled or anything.  Then  I remembered when we had to do the same thing to Abuela Julia.  Mom asked me turn abuela and hold her as she was being cleaned.  Abuela would scream, mom said, "No hagas caso, lo tenemos que hacer de todas maneras."  Of course abuela did not have a broken femur I thought.   I told mom, "No te preocupes, Ana estaba lejisimo.  Ella no pudo oirte."  (I have no idea where Ana actually was)  Mom calmed down.  The nurse who had to move mom came back.  I explained to mom that it was her job to make sure the sheets were clean and that the she was clean.  Otherwise she could get bed sores etc...  Luckily she looked more than a little like Misora.  The lady smiled and grabbed her hand and said something to the effect that she had to do it.  Mom just said;  It's Okay, don't worry It's Okay.  She had her trademark smile. I was shaken by this whole experience.  I do not know if I helped or hurt, but I am glad I was there.  

That was  my first experience at the hospital with mom.  

All this happened while I had the most busy teaching schedule I had ever had.   Although the University would grant me sick leave or family leave, I felt I should minimize the number of days I took since the students were counting on me.  I had so many siblings taking care of mom, I would have had to have someone teach for me.I also felt that my schedule was a lot more flexible than the rest of my siblings.  Later on, during convalescence, that flexibility and sick leave would be needed.     I had  not come to the realization of the seriousness of the situation.  As it was during the ceremony now being celebrated by Father Geordi, someone, I did not know who, was covering my class. 
    

It was Friday now and mom still had not had surgery.  She had an infection and the internist with the unpronounceable name could not clear her for surgery.  She was being treated for it but the surgery had to wait until Monday.  It was scheduled for Monday afternoon.  I did not like this.  I remember Lourdes telling me that surgeries should be performed in the morning; the surgeons were not be as tired and if something went wrong, more departments and personnel would be available if needed.  I could not do anything about it.  I wondered how Lourdes would have taken care of this but I could not see how.  I did not have any contacts in this hospital.  I knew no one in this hospital.  In the meantime Juanpi and Rosa came up with a way to minimize the pain.   They would insist that she get her dilautid medication 30 minutes before she was going to be moved. This seemed to work. At least she showed less outward signs that she was in pain.    

Now, as Father Gordi spoke, I kept thinking of how proud I was of my family.  They all pitched in to take care of the situation.  The ones that did not have as many obligations, or at least better able to put them aside,  taking the brunt; all the others doing their share.  No one complaining, just moving forward, facing the obstacles,as they came; and they did.

The day of the surgery they wheeled mom down to pre op.  Since at Mercy Hospital they usually did not allow us to be at preop, I did not go to there right away.  The nurse came into the waiting room and asked me if mom was okay.  To myself I thought, of course she is not okay; she is about to have surgery.  He seemed like he wanted to say more but did not know how.  Both Rosa and I realized that mom was probably nervous or confused so we went in right away.  We found mom crying.  I asked her:  Y por que estas llorando?  She told me.  "Yo no se .... el muchacho me pregunto que si yo me moria o me incapacitaba, quien yo iba a escoger para hacer las decisiones...." I told her.  "Pero mami, eso siempre lo preguntan.  Eso no quiere decir que eso iba a pasar.  No te preocupes.  Ponte en las manos de Dios."  I do not really remember who said what, maybe Rosa said that last part.   Mom then said:  "Yo escogi a Rosa, porque ella es monja."  I told her: "...y yo estoy de acuerdo..".I think she was trying to justify why she did not pick me or anyone else. (I love my mom.)   I was very happy she made the choice she did.  It was the right one. We kept talking and then the anestheologist came in.  His name was Dr. Sultan.  He is from Syria.  He explained to me what they were going to do.   They would sedate her and then administer an epidural so she would not feel pain.   He did not give me any sense that he was worried about the procedure.   I went outside and got some of my brothers and sisters.   I wanted to have them be with mom.  I remember the last time I spoke to Dad.  Dad was very confused.  He was very nervous.  I could not calm him down, perhaps because I was so nervous as well.  I wish I had handled that differently.   There was no one else there.   Ana came in to the room.  Although I was really not that worried about this procedure, I wonder if this was a premonition. Rosa told me that mom instructed her to purchase bed rails for everyone with the money she had in the bank.  Then they took her into the room.

They took mom into surgery.  The family was all in the waiting room and we were all in good spirits.  We all felt, finally, the surgery was taking place.  Finally we can be on the road to recovery; or to whatever awaits.  

We spoke a little about rehab etc... We all hated to see mom in pain.  Shortly after we heard a code being called.   Ana and Rosa both realized that was mom's room.  Carlos said something...... then the code was canceled.  Shortly after a nurse came out and said that the code should not have been called.  We should not worry.   All of us were quiet.  We did not say anything but all of us were...worried.   

After a couple of hours Dr. Sultan and Dr. Berkowitz came out to see us.  Dr. Sultan has a face where I cannot tell if he is being serious or not.   He said the news is not good.  He explained that mom stopped breathing after the administration of the epidural.  Her heart slowed down and she had to be revived.  They had to intubate her.  She did not need to be defibrillated.   They were worried however because of her previous mental status that she may be affected by even a short span of lack of oxygen to the brain.   A number of us began crying.  We just had to wait and see to see how much damage had been done.  They kept saying  She was in the best possible place for this to happen.  This really irked me.  They kept saying this.  I kept thinking, if she were somewhere else maybe it would not have happened.   We decided to call Turi. When he was called he did not say anything.  I think he probably was having a hard time talking.  He just said, I will be there tomorrow.  I will be there tomorrow. 

Dr. Sultan said that perhaps what happened was that an embolus went up, or maybe it was a high epidural.  We were hoping for the high epidural, since that is temporary.  An embolus has other sequelae.   I called George  (Andy's friend from Burger King, he took care of Dad as a respiratory therapist while he was in the Intensive Care Unit).  He tried to be very helpful.  I of course called Lourdes and then called Mario Almeida, a good doctor friend.  Both of them told me what we should do.   I called the internist that evening.  He responded but i missed the call.   I was probably talking to Mario or Lourdes.   I was glad he called.   We decided that one of us should stay with mom, and the rest should leave.  Teresa volunteered.  I then spoke to the nurse Kwan.  I asked her what the troponin levels were.  They were elevated.  I thought mom had a heart attack.  I stayed in the fishbowl (waiting area for ICU) and googled all sorts of stuff.  I went back to ICU and talked to Kwan about it.   The second set of troponin levels were even higher.  I was now sure she had a heart attack.   I think I told one other member of the family.  I did not think it was worth telling everyone else.  I was not all that sure and nurse Kwan assured me that the Cardiologist did not think that it was significant increase.   (At the time I thought the cardiologist was sleeping and did not think it was significant enough to wake up).   You have to understand that at times like these we all start thinking of the worse of everyone.

I went home.  I kept thinking that I was being too pessimistic.  I knew the next day mom was going to wake up and would be her old self.  I kept thinking How are we going to explain to her that the surgery did not take place.  

I do not really want to get into the rest.   We all know what happened after that. 
   

As father Geordi basically told us not to go to communion,  I kept thinking that I was so proud of my family.  At the hospital Cristina visited and was there a lot of the time.  One time she came in and basically fell asleep right next to Lela.  It reminded me of that picture of Cristina sleeping, leaning on Lela's shoulder.  Abuela would have been so happy.   I also know that Cris and Ely and Paula were all worried about me.  They  kept trying to make sure I was okay. Elena started the notebook.    She kept a tally of all the nurses had done.   Everyone else in the family continued it.  She drove from Gainesville twice.  She, as she always does, was trying to be as helpful as possible.  Rob was amazingly mature during the whole situation.   He would ask me all these questions usually on the technical medical side.  I had to keep on my toes just to answer it.  Paula was able to go less.  With her busy schedule she was still able to help tremendously by picking up Rob at very key times during the whole process.  She kept asking and wondering, Dad, are you okay?   So did Elena.    So did Cristina.  So did Lourdes.  Lourdes, came in to the hospital and realized all the stuff the ICU had not taken care of.  I pretended I knew what I was talking about and called the internist with the unpronounceable name and asked why this and that was not being done.  It all got done soon enough and we learned how to manage it, I am glad she was on our side.   Turi, Carlos, Ana, Andy and Teresa did everything they could.  Carlos would bring coffee for everyone after he finished work.  This reminded me so much of dda. I looked upon Ana as our little tiger.   Whenever we needed someone tough,  there she was.  Just ask that b...neurologist.  I kept feeling badly about not being able to contribute.  Everyone understood, no one even asked questions about it.  Juanpi and Rosa were incredible.   Juanpi kept on top of the hospital staff.  He made sure mom felt as little pain as possible.  He would time the dilaudid at precisely the right time.  He would sometimes still go to work in the morning.  He had a file case with all of the information we needed for Mom.   He would try to talk to mom all the time.  He kept thinking, all we have to do is get over this hump.   Rosa was amazing. She would talk to mom in a very gentle manner.   Her back was hurting but she was still doing it.  One time mom was getting a little nervous, she saw Rosa, relaxed and went to sleep.  She really brought mom peace.    I have never been so touched as when I heard her sing "Salve Regina".    That is all I will say about that.
 

Father Geordi finished the communion.  Rosa went to the altar and delivered a very nice eulogy.   Then Glenn got up.  This must have been very difficult for him.  His main message was that He loved Lela Rosa.  I was very proud of him, as I was when he took care of Lela in the ICU. 

They say that with everything that is bad some good will come of it.   It is hard to see what that is in this case. 

During the funeral itself I felt  sad.   I saw where Dad was buried and thought that it was right next to my very favorite type of tree, a Florida Pine.   As time went on I became happier.  I realized that mom had a wonderful life.  I think Noemi actually stated this. Seeing all her sons, daughters and spouses and grandchildren she must be very happy.  I pictured Robert, Papi, Tia Maria, Abuela Julia and mom looking down and being proud of what they saw.   If nothing else this made me realize how fortunate we all are to have had a mom like her.