Stella

The Spanish Estella, and thus the English and French Estelle, also derive from Stella which is Latin for star.

I had 36 wonderful years with Nana in my life. She got to see me grow up and go through many changes. I know what a blessing these years have been. Still, selfishly, I want all the days. I have become so accustomed to sharing my life with her, to seeing something that I'd like to share with her later and saving it. I have become really used to saying I'll see you tomorrow or Tuesday, I love you, one more hug, one more kiss and if I could go back I'd stay 20 minutes longer, every time. 

A tribute to the star, the brightest light in my life.
Stella Arvizu Leal, 1930-2017

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One day you won't get anymore days. 
One day you'll wake up and remember the last time and you'll know, it was the last time. 
And you'll think, or they'll tell you,
she's resting now, no more pain, she's with her mother, her god,
in a beautiful place where all the flowers grow, all the time
and she's floating and smiling and happy to be free.

You might worry that she's afraid
you may feel the physical sensation of your heart breaking, or being torn from your chest.
You may lose your breath and have trouble eating proper meals.
You will worry about the others who knew
as intimately as you that she was a rare and bright light in the world, at least in yours.
You assume they know how very warm, all the way to the last time, her embrace was. 

One day you won't get anymore days, but you'll be so grateful for the ones you had.
Torn between the sharp pain of losing someone you loved, who loved you so dearly,
and setting them free, and blessing them for their presence in your life.

One day there won't be anymore days and all the other days will charge through your mind,
like your own life flashing before your eyes
and you'll feel like you can't breathe.
You'll remember things you didn't know you remembered,
especially little things
and you'll forget to breathe because you're trying to capture it all,
to hold it
before the rawness of the moment fades. 

It's the other senses you won't expect to bring you to your knees, but they will.
When you smell her shawl
or hear her voice in your mind,
the way she said your name, or the way she laughed when she was really tickled
or how she loved to cheers for no reason, but to sing, "que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be..."
and you'll laugh at that memory as you toast and then you'll tear up thinking about how
she used to sing
"you are my sunshine
my only sunshine,
you make me happy
when skies are grey,
you'll never know dear
how much I love you,
please don't take my sunshine away."
But you don't sing the second verse because that would be too much.

One day, all the days have happened, and there won't be anymore,
and hope on that day that you feel like you got the most out of the days you had.
Hope you feel blessed for as many as you got
and know that you will be forever changed.
​
Rest In Peace, Nana, you are so loved and so missed.

Read "Adios to My First True Love (Stella revisited)"