Runs In The Family

Growing up I remember my great grandma Luz comparing me and my sister to herself and her sister. She would always say that my sister was more like her, and that I was more like her sister. Based on what I had heard about her sister, I knew this was not a complimentary comparision. Luz was known for being outspoken, aggressive, fearless and fun to be around. All I heard about her sister was that she never did much, and was the total opposite. Whenever she told me I was more like Vera (that's what it sounded like with her accent), I would get very upset and feel like a pathetic loser. I didn't think I was like that and I did not want to be like that, but back then, it was probably a fair assumption and I just didn't want to admit it, so that's what made it hurt so much. I know she wasn't trying to hurt me either, she probably was just joking or trying to prod me along if anything.

I don't remember many things about her, not as many as I wish I did. A loose sketch of her would be a really tall fair skinned woman with her hair dyed blonde, a very full figure and a loud, often dirty mouth, who could outcook, outsew, and outcuss anyone I knew. I can still hear her saying "Fock it", which I always thought was so funny. She was brutally honest and also brimming over with kindness. She would tell you anything, usually more than you cared to know, which grossed me out when I was younger, but now it is what I love most.

I remember she had a small house in Lynwood. It was a Spanish Style painted bright orange and the walkway and porch were a deep shade of red and the roof was tile. She had a vinyl booth in the kitchen, which was also decorated in orange and shades of yellow. I remember crawling under the table to get out when the people I was sitting with did not want to get up to let me out. She also had the obligatory picture of "The Last Supper" hanging. The living room had wood paneling and mounted on the walls were the heads of two bucks, courtesy of my Uncle Joe. She had two sofas with the typical 70's floral print in oranges, browns, yellows and greens. She had glass grapes and other wax fruits and vegetables scattered on tables throughout the living room and kitchen. Her bathroom was pink and decorated in flamingos. She had pictures hanging on the dining room walls and wherever else she could fit them. She was notorious for stealing pictures from people, so whenever anyone would show her pictures, they were on their guard and knew to check her purse for them. Somehow this was passed down to my sister and I who stole pictures of her (appropriate much?) from her daughter.

I can't even try to make an excuse like she died when I was really young and that's why I only have pieces of memories and stories to go on. She died when I was sixteen, not six. I think most of the time I just didn't get it, I didn't understand how awesome she was, how much she meant to my mom since she practically raised her while my grandma was too caught up in her second marriage to remember the two kids left from the first one. I guess I just thought she was kind of weird and maybe too loud and perverted and also that I saw her pick her nose and then flick the booger. I didn't realize until much later what a great lady she was and how much she meant to people and how much she did for them.

If there was ever a group of women hanging around she would say "look at all these foochies" (which was her slang for vagina), which used to gross me out, but now I think it is really funny and kind of cool even. We went to visit her grave on Saturday after my cousin's first birthday party and while my mom and I were trying to clean up her gravesite, my mom was talking to her out loud. She was telling her about the party and about other family news and introducing her to Frankie. Then I said "look at all these foochies" and my mom started laughing and then had to tell her that mine was the only one that hadn't been entered by un hombre, and then she said grandma would be thinking, "que la chingada, what the hell is wrong with you?" and "hell" would be pronounced like "hail". Lucky for me, the topic soon changed to something else and I continued to tear out grass and try to wipe the dirt, dust and birdshit off her headstone.

As we made our way back to the car, we looked at some other graves since some of our family are buried near each other. My sister asked my mom "do we know Elvira Fierro?" and my mom said, "yes, that's our aunt Vera". I was always confused and thought her name was Vera and didn't know they were calling her Vira as short for Elvira. Then my mom said something along the lines of comparing us and again, it upset me. I started cleaning up her grave, which was in worse shape than my grandma's but someone had left her a few roses. There was more grass trying to grow over it and it was even dustier and dirtier. But by that time I had my technique down and I was going nuts trying to make it look nice for her, even though things like that only matter to us I'm sure. So I'm pulling up grass from around it and using it to wipe it down since there is some water in the grass and as I'm wiping away, I see that instead of "wife and mother" or anything like that, it says "beloved sister and aunt". So then it was like "tap tap" on my shoulder, that is you.