And for one brief and shining moment,she was even here, back home in what was previously our apartment.3 But for better or worse, I took her over to her sister's place... and tears began to flow4. And when that was all over, they began to flow again. In between, there was time for me to eat three chicken tortillas and some reheated Mexican-style pinto beans interrupted by periods of comforting her sister and our (i.e., my and my wife's) niece and answering or declining to answer questions from our 5(?)-year-old grandniece5 (Is that tía Lore in there? Can she get out? Can you open it?). Some time during all of this, I offered to let them keep her ashes for a brief yet unspecified amount of time and they agreed. Thus, she is currently being memorialized in a vigil there with the whole burning candles around her "urn" 6.
1 And not only can't I smell what the Lorena is cooking, I doubt that she is cooking.
2 And, yes, it is time to play "how many cultural references can you spot and identify in this post".
3 The "where she belongs" is, of course, implied.
4 As a male, I can neither confirm nor deny that any such tears proceeded from me, but let the reader(s) figure it out.
5 This is the same grandniece who once (when my wife was still alive) asked me "Is your tía Lore home?". In an effort to correct her, I explained that Lorena was not my tía ("aunt"), but my esposa ("wife"). After which she asked, "Oh, so is your tía esposa home?".
6 It looks more or less like this7:
except:
- it's dark blue instead of black;
- it has a label with her name and the name of and information for the cremation service (Cremation Services, Inc., 2570 Fortune Way Suite D Vista, CA 92081, 760-727-8906); and,
- most importantly, it is closed and possibly sealed.
8 Then again, that was probably a smart and/or fortunate move on their part when dealing with me because I would have immediately asked them whether that was what they meant if they had.
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