Unsung Heroes (excerpt) -- Part II: Remedios (standard:poetry, 1510 words) [2/2] show all parts
Author: Victor D. Lopez	Added: Jun 18 2013	Views/Reads: 2119/1594	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This second excerpt from my longest free verse poem concerns my maternal grandmother's struggle to keep her family together through unimaginable tragedy in post Civil War Spain and beyond.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


Your cataracts and near sightedness made it difficult for you to read,
But you read voraciously nonetheless, and loved to write long letters 
to loved ones And friends. You were a wise old woman, the wisest and 
strongest I will ever Know, but one with the heart of a child and the 
soul of an angel. 

You were the most sane, most rational, most well adjusted human being I
have ever known. You were mischievous, but incapable of malice. You 
were adventurous, never afraid to try or to learn anything new. You 
were fun-loving, interesting, kind, rambunctious, funny and smart as 
hell. 

You would have been an early adopter of all modern technology, had you
lived Long enough, and would have loved playing—and working—with all of 
my electronic toys. You would have been a terror with a word processor, 
email, and social media and would Have loved my video games—and beaten 
me at every one of them. 

We were great friends and playmates throughout most of my childhood. You
followed Us here soon after we immigrated in 1967, leaving behind 20 
other Grandchildren. I never understood the full measure of that 
sacrifice, or the love that made it Bearable for you. I do now. Too 
late. It is one of the greatest regrets of my life. 

We played board games, cowboys and Indians, raced electric cars, flipped
Baseball cards and played thousands of hands of cards together. It 
never Occurred to me that you were the least bit unusual in any way. I 
loved you Dearly but never went far out of my way to show it. That too, 
I learned too late. 

After moving to Buenos Aires, when mom had earned enough money to take
You and her younger brothers there, the quota system then in place made 
it Impossible to send for your two youngest children, whose care you 
entrusted Temporarily to your eldest married daughter, Maria. 

You wanted them with you. Knowing no better, you went to see Evita Peron
for Help. Unsurprisingly, you could not get through her gatekeepers. 
But you were Nothing if not persistent. You knew she left early every 
morning for her office. And you parked yourself there at 6:00 a.m., for 
many, many days by her driveway. 

Eventually, she had her driver stop and motioned for you to approach.
“Grandmother, why do you wave at me every morning when I leave for 
work?” She asked. You explained about your children in Spain. She took 
pity and Scribbled a pass on her card to admit you to her office the 
next day. 

You met her there and she assured you that a visa would be forthcoming;
When she learned that you made a living by cleaning homes and washing 
Clothing, She offered you a sewing machine and training to become a 
Seamstress. You thanked her but declined the offer. 

“Give the sewing machine to another mother with no trade. My strong back
and Hands serve me well enough and I do just fine, as I have always 
done.”Evita must Have been impressed for she asked you to see her yet 
again when the children had arrived in Buenos Aires, giving you another 
pass. You said you would. 

You kept your word, as always. And Evita granted you another brief
audience, Met your two youngest sons (José and Emilio) and shared hot 
chocolate and Biscuits with the three of you. You disliked and always 
criticized Peron and the Peronistas, But you never forgot Evita's 
kindness and defended her all your life. 

You were gone too quickly. I had not said “I love” you in years. I was
too busy, With school and other equally meaningless things to keep in 
touch. You Passed away without my being there. Mom had to travel by 
herself to your Bedside for an extended stay. The last time I wrote you 
I had sent you a picture. 

It was from my law school graduation. You carried it in your coat pocket
before the stroke. As always, you loved me, with all of my faults that 
made me Unworthy of your love. 

I knew the moment that you died. I awoke from a deep sleep to see a huge
White bird of human size atop my desk across from my bed. It opened 
huge Wings and flew towards me and passed through me as I shuddered. I 
knew then that you were gone. I cried, and prayed for you. 

Mom called early the next day with the news that you had passed. She
also Told me much, much later that you had been in a coma for some time 
but that You awoke, turned to her without recognizing her, and told her 
that you were Going to visit your grandson in New York. Then you fell 
asleep one last time. 

I miss you every day. 

From Of Pain and Ecstasy: Collected Poems (C) 2011 Victor D. Lopez
(Amazon Kindle and CreateSpace) 

Free audio files with my sample readings of selected poems from my Of
Pain and Ecstasy collection, including a longer excerpt of this poem, 
can be found at 
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCGA9jqMarpGQdW3Zj6X1CZw


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