An End of an Era
I do not like anything that feels like an “end of an era”. It’s more of the hindsight that gets me. It’s the act of looking back and knowing how special and fleeting those moments were that really affect me, even if they weren’t even my moments. I got the same feeling from hearing the retelling of my grandmother’s experience with her brothers. I can only imagine how special it felt that she got a “round two” of that sibling bond and time they have always shared. That the three of them got to experience a whole other level of closeness in their early adult years in a space where they got to grow and explore but still lean on one another. To imagine the laughs, tears, music and growth that happened in those years together and then to know that like most of these magical moments, it also comes to an end. Hearing her share how they each went off to start their own family and grow within their own family unit, hits me much differently hearing it at this age. And even more so knowing their “kids” as the adults in my life and still categorizing myself as the “kid” in their world… feels a little out of body in the best way. I love that I get to slightly remove myself and see them as younger than me in this one moment. As young adults weaving in and out of these phases in their lives; knowing a little bit about where they end up but surprisingly not as much as I thought about how they got there. So, while I hate an “end of an era”, I am excited to explore the next one.
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“I wanted to follow up a little more on the previous writing about my brothers. You see, my brothers and I had a very very strong bond. We had a wonderful childhood in a place that was magic, in a time that was magic. We could always look back on the memories and say “remember when” and have all these memories and stories together. We grew up as a unit. So when my sisters eventually came to the United States, even though we were so thrilled to have them, it felt very different. I had a different love and relationship with them as they felt more like my own babies.
That is why I wanted my brothers to come immediately and stay with us because I had never lived without them. It felt like our unit, our pack of three, was back together. When Fernando came, he started working and saving money and bought himself a piano. He couldn’t be without his music. Music to my family was very important. Whenever we all got together someone would play an instrument or sing. Specifically Manuel, known to us as Manin, would play the guitar and we would all sit around him and sing. After many years, even now, we could get together and sing, the whole family harmonizing and knowing the songs, no matter how many years apart. I think for Fernando, after he had his accident, that music was the best therapy that he could have ever had.
Well anyway when we moved out of the apartment we had to leave the piano there. After a few months Manin and Blanca Maria moved to Eastern Illinois where Manin went to study. Even though they were far away we still made a point of going almost every weekend to visit them. After time Fernando decided that Champaign Urbana was a little too small and he moved to New York. We had cousins there so he moved and became a real New Yorker. He just absolutely loved it. It’s where a whole new part of his life happened; he met his wife in New York and had a child in New York, so that was his journey.
I just wanted to share a little bit more about them after the last piece. More about the bond and love of siblings, family and music.”
