Tuesday, March 8, 2011


We go about our lives and take for granted that we will live to old age as will our loved ones.  My mother lost her mom at nine years of age.  My grandmother, Luz Maria, had four children ranging in ages from nine to one year old.  Her children were raised separately as the two youngest were children from her second marriage.  I met my aunts when they came to the U.S. when I was a little girl.  My youngest aunt was 16 or 17 at the time, and I was seven.  She was so fun, full of life.  She loved to dance and taught me so I could dance with her.  She later had a family of her own, four beautiful children.  This past Saturday, her boyfriend attacked her while everyone was asleep.  He was assumed to have gone home after an argument.  He returned, though, and stabbed her in the neck and stomach area and then hurt my aunt's second youngest as he fought to disarm that man and her other two sons tried to stem her bleeding.  At the age of 48, she was gone, very early Sunday, March 6.  March 5 was the seventh anniversary of my mother's passing at age 50 -- her eldest sister.

How anyone can take a life is incomprehensible.  That anyone would hurt my aunt -- a warm, loving, happy person -- is unfathomable.  There is no comfort for her children nor the rest of the family.  We are shell-shocked.  We are angry.  We are grieving.  It seems within reach to turn back time to just three days before and protect her.  Logic is out the window.  How can it be possible that everyone's lives, especially her children's, are altered so horribly in seconds?  Yes, I do believe that we will join our loved ones in Heaven, which means that she is finally in her mother's arms and surrounded by my mother and many others we've lost over the years, especially these last seven years.  Is it selfish to not be comforted by that thought?  Why did she have to go in such a painful way?  What fear, what panic she must have felt when she realized she was mortally wounded.  My cousins must be reliving the horror every moment.  They feel there was something they could have done to save her.  The bastard -- no lesser word is appropriate -- took her life, and he took their security, their peace... he took their lives when he took my aunt's.  I hope that the law brings at least a small amount of peace.  I hope he never has a moment of peace nor a moment of happiness.  I hope that his own life as he's known it is forfeit.

Aunt Narda, rest in peace.  Do not worry about your children and grandchildren.  They are surrounded by love and all the support we can give them.  When you see my mom, please give her a big hug and kiss for me.  I love you.