1912 (or 1910) to 2008

1912 (or 1910) to 2008

I don't have any grandparents anymore. My vovó Olivia Diva died tonight, less than an hour ago. My mom just emailed us the news from grandma's house. She is resting now, and she passed away peacefully at home, the way the family wanted and probably she did too, although she was clinging to life and didn't want to die. Most of us don't.

Some previous posts about my grandmother and my dad's family here, here, and there.

I am sad, but I knew it was coming, I just didn't think it would happen so quickly. My other grandmother also died while I was far away, back in 1997, only seven months after our arrival in this country. I wish I could be with my parents right now. Good thing I will see them in only three weeks (I'm going to Brazil for a few days in January).

I just hope that now that grandma is no longer here that the serious conflicts in my dad's side of the family don't erupt all of a sudden and that all legal and financial matters pertaining to the family can be resolved in a civil and peaceful manner in honor of vovó. This is what I will be thinking and praying about now. As for vovó Olivia, she is resting in peace now, with no more pain and suffering. And what remains of her will be laid down to rest beside my grandfather, who preceded her precisely 30 years and a couple of months ago.

Both of them will be only a few hundred feet away from my maternal grandparents' resting place, in the same grassy cemetery where, back in 1986, I saw the slanted late afternoon sun shine on my beloved Vovô Passos's face, as they opened his casket for one last goodbye before lowering it down, close to the earth. I remember filling my hand with dry, dusty soil, and dropping it into the grave.

From dust we come, and to dust we shall return.