After the Passing
We fail to realize how ingrained, how embedded someone is until they pass. My grandmother, known dearly to us as Abuela, went on to the other side, the side where no one really knows what, or where. The shock, the grief, is fading little by little. Now I am left with echos of her voice, short glimpses of her face, and feeling her skin. With just a moment I can relive my time with her. She is not forgotten, rather she becomes part of my day, as well as my dreams at night. She