You might read with some surprise of a writer who is at a loss for words. It happens more often than you might think. In some cases, certain things are inexpressible. Words don’t always seem to get the job done. That’s how I have felt over the past couple of days, having learned of the death of my Granma. Or, as I’ve called her all my life, Abuelita.

Perhaps, I’ll let some photos convey one of my favorite memories I have of her, coming over for Christmas breakfast and opening presents alongside my wife’s grandmother. It’s a fitting way to remember her, seeing as to both women have lived with such giving spirits. In this first photo, you can see Abuelita on the right. A seamstress by trade, she’s admiring, what else, the fabric and stitching on a garment.

Abuelita tended to be a reserved and very proper lady. These photos, showing her in moments of unrestrained joy make her passing a little easier. Till we meet again, this is how I will remember her.