January 15, 2012
"The boarding gate was something to see. Me and all my cousins would take turns saying goodbye, one by one, not unlike the phone at Easter. Then her children would say goodbye. Throughout the whole time, my Lola would be crying hysterically as if it were the last time she’d ever see us. The security that would approach us for blocking the gate would suddenly leave us alone, because my Lola was that emotional that they didn’t want to bother her. My Lola hated goodbyes."

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from a letter I wrote to a friend after visiting my Lola last month (via jamesislames)

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My Lolo visited the United States for the first time since my Lola’s passing this holiday season. Yesterday was his last day here. Instead of the traditional trip to the airport with all the cousins, my Lolo insisted that if we all went to LAX to say goodbye it would be “too much.” He didn’t verbalize it, but we all sort of knew that “too much” meant that he remembered what the boarding gate was like— the drawn out goodbyes, my Lola’s tears.

Instead, my Lolo was accompanied to the airport by four of his children and not their spouses or children. Our goodbyes were rushed and done sort of hastily. The cousins stayed back at the house and played Just Dance 3 on Xbox Kinect, enjoying each others’ company before we went our separate ways.

After returning from the airport, my uncle told me that Lolo had teared up at the airport. While it probably (I’ll never know for sure) wasn’t the same spectacle, it only takes a Golfo to recognize that those were my Lola’s tears, still very much alive.

10:24am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZkbjTyEpPxKt
(Notes: 4)
  
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