EULOGY FROM LOS YUNAITES

Arts & CultureFamily
Written By Gabriela León Bolaños
 

EULOGY FROM LOS YUNAITES

By Gabriela León

My abuelita was the beacon in the night: 

The rod, the sword, the guide. 

When we learned to walk, 

She held our hands to guide us. 

When we ran, laughed, tumbled, scraped Came back bloodier than we were: 

There were no hugs to greet us 

But always plenty of food 

And tortillas form her hand. 

When her children had grown up, 

Y la guerra, la pobreza, la tristeza 

Had burrowed where she couldn’t go 

She opened up the doors into your home 

And took us, little ones still so full of life, 

Like treasures from a shipwreck in the

dark. We came and watched and waited 

Like traced out paintings, 

Not quite fitting not yet finished, 

But with her stern and sturdy hand we never drifted far.

Now her little ones have grown: 

At home in her back garden, 

In hostile, foreign lands, 

Through heartbreak and divorce 

With diplomas and promotions; 

With her sacrifice to teach them. 

With her jokes and her devotion, 

Sus regaños y su enojo 

The rod, the sword, the guide.

 
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Gabriela León Bolaños
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