So was Abuela. She was always smiling and laughing and asking us to play Pokino with her. But there was nothing to laugh about at her funeral. Abuelo had thrown himself over the open casket, collapsed over Abuela's body while he mumbled something in Spanish through his tears. He was broken. Heartbroken.
I wasn't upset that Abeula had passed away. It was her time. She was old and frail and the dementia had already taken parts of my sweet Abuela away. She was somewhere better. Somewhere where she could be whole and strong and 100 percent her. Her death wasn't what had me in tears. I was doing OK until I pictured Cayden in there. What would I do if I lost Cayden and that was his body lying unnmoving in that casket? I would have thrown myself inside the casket, cuddled up next to his lifeless body and begged someone to bring him back to life. Therefore, my tears were Abuelo's tears.
Maybe if Cayden had been there, I wouldn't have pictured him in the casket. I would have been able to cuddle up next to his warm, lively body and let him hold me through the service.
As I mentioned once before, Cayden had been in a long-distance relationship once before. One of the main reasons it ended was because his girlfriend's grandfather had died, and he couldn't be there for her because he was in the military. She couldn't get over that, and he couldn't get over feeling helpless.
A small part of Cayden feared that history was about to repeat itself when I told him about Abuela. I wouldn't let that happen. As nice as it would have been to have him there to comfort me, I didn't need him. I wanted him, yes, but I had my friends, my family, and a lot of Spanish speaking relatives I didn't remember meeting before.
Yesterday was the funeral. Tomorrow, Cayden lands at DFW airport. I finally get my man back. It's been two months since I last saw him. Despite the depressing week, I'm going to be the happiest girl in the world tomorrow.