The Past


A photograph of my Grandmother, Juanita Concepcion Perez.  She was a beautiful, formidable woman.  I loved her fierce spirit and her spicy personality, hidden in her small frame.

When she passed, I was just 18 weeks along with my first child.  She died at my mother’s house, with many loved ones surrounding her.  I looked into her eyes while she took her last few breaths and I could sense a bit of fear in them.  I told her, “Thank you” and in my mind I gave her permission to let go.  My mother washed her lifeless body shortly afterwards.  I felt the first butterfly movements of life in me that day.