usually when mom comes home from work, especially when she’s worked a closing shift, she’s very angry and irritable and yells a lot.
but tonight she came to me immediately and hugged me and started crying and i asked her what was wrong.
"there was this little girl at the store today," she said. "her dad was calling for her and i didn’t know if i had heard the name right so i asked the little girl in spanish ‘what’s your name?’ and the little girl said ‘Elida.’ and all i could say was ‘what a pretty name.’"
Elida was the name of my Buela. my mom hasn’t gotten over her death yet and i don’t think she ever will.