Sometimes I’m overcome with sadness and frustration to see someone I love so much deteriorating before my eyes. With dedication each week I visit Camila, hoping to catch a glimpse of the wild woman she once use to be. She’s a woman with a loose tongue, no filter, who can throw some mean punches when you’re not expecting. She says jokes inappropriate for a grandma. She’s real though, and she’s honest. Or at least she used to be.
I miss the days of freshly popped popcorn, gorditas de chicharon and packets of creamer she used to save for me. Yes… coffee creamer, lol. I miss her brutally honest remarks. I miss the agua bendita on my forehead. Its hard to live with the fact that the disease is slowly winning.
I saw Camila today but I left with the feeling that I truly didn’t see her, and it makes me sad.