My Grandmother's Hands*

Until my teenage years, I only knew of one place for family vacation: La Punta de Bombon, a quaint little coastal town in southern Peru where my dad grew up--mostly. Going to La Punta to visit Mama Juana (grandma) meant early morning walks to the farm, horse rides, "pacay" and sugar cane eating, hay climbing and cow milking. It also meant leisurely afternoons at the beach, time with cousins, walks to the main square and new friends. But the main events were always mealtimes: a lunch-sized breakfast, a dinner-sized lunch, and an all-you-can-eat buffet-sized dinner. It was Mama Juana's style.

I was never big on food and mealtimes. As a child, I resented being forced to eat the soup with rather questionable floaties, or drink the warm freshly expressed milk with a layer of fat on top. I also blame my aversion to lamb to those days. It took a while for me to recognize the love behind all the meals that were prepared. Filling our tummies = expressions of love. See? And sure enough, all those things that once terrorized me, are now some of my fondest memories.

Mama Juana became a widow at age 37**. She had 11 kids to feed and a farm to run. By the time I came along, about 20 years later, she knew her animals and she knew them well. She raised chickens, pigs, cows, sheep, goats, hens and guinea pigs. She directed the affairs of her farm and was the sole breadwinner of her family. She taught her kids to work. She taught me to milk cows and to pick shellfish. I never saw her ride a horse, but she enjoyed watching us ride. She was a devoted catholic who believed in miracles. She raised her kids in the Catholic faith and taught them to be hard working, honest men and women. She was courageous. She was strong.

I am proud to be her granddaughter. I love and admire her.

Mama Juana, I remember you fondly, and I wish I could come visit you and give you a hug. I wish I had given you many more last time I saw you. But what I am wishing for with this post, is for some of my memories of you to stay put and for Paxton and your other grandkids to know you, until we meet again. For now, I'll think of you when I see my hands on the steering wheel, when I chop onions, when I have Paxton on my lap and my hands on his. After all, I have my grandmother Tejada's hands.

Juana Rospigliosi Delgado de Tejada
Courtesy of my dad's facebook profile

Grandpa Jaime and Paxton. Behind: La Punta, town, farms and beach
Picture taken in February 2011.

* I wrote most of this post on May 4th, 11 days after Mama Juana passed away. I couldn't get myself to finish it because I didn't want closure. Not yet. I clicked on a picture of her today, June 25th, and I knew just what that last paragraph was supposed to say.

** Give or take, must confirm age.