I really love my grandmother. She raised me and gave me the education I needed from the beginning while being lovable, and just a sweetheart. The best memories I have are with her and I truly loved my childhood.
She gave me the ancient wisdom, the power of her experience.
Loved those long conversations about life and what she had gone through. She went through a lot, believe me, including though times but her positive thinking prevailed. She was the strongest woman I ever knew. I grow to be like her.
She didn’t get to go to school but she knew how to do what most people didn’t at that time – read, write and count. And oh boy did she know how to count! All those afternoons that we spent playing cards (and she letting me win), the way she rolled the cards on her hand like she used to do at the bakery when she was younger, the way she counted each other’s points, it always surprised me how fast she was to know who had won and by how many.
She would never sit down! Unless it was to talk, to watch the soap opera with my grandfather or to watch “The price is right”.
The way she would get irritated when my grandfather didn’t know what to eat for dinner like he had just offended her.
Love that woman.
The way she would call me Lilica when I was younger and I would call her Maria, she would just smile and chuckle.
I went to England always fearing the worst, she was getting weaker and weaker. Never going to forget when I went home for Christmas and her eyes lighten up like they just got the best gift they could ever get “A minha Lilica!” (My Lilica!) she said.
Once I had to go back I didn’t get to say goodbye. She was sleeping, she was tired.
I know she loved me and she knew I loved her.
There was nothing left to say.
Happy birthday, Maria.