326. Bésame

My Grandmother died last night. She was 100 years old last April. I am more shocked than sad. In my life, she always was. At some point you begin to think that she was immortal. I barely cried and now I am beginning to worry that with all the loss and heartache I have no empathy left to give.

My biological paternal Grandmother died well before I was born. Thankfully my grandfather remarried a graceful and wonderful woman. Her name was Alice, but her nickname was “Bayto”…that was some anglos child’s miss interpretation of “bésame”. – Spanish for give me a kiss. That was Bayto, a kiss first and all love to follow.  As I mentioned, she was there before my own consciousness, but my earliest memory of her was a building a Christmas diorama of a beautiful angel presented in a box. She picked me up at home and drove me to the craft store, Moskatels. (It no longer exists we both outlasted it.) We carefully picked out each thing we needed to create the angel. She never was impatient like my own busy mother. We took our time and then drove to her home and spent what seemed like hours creating this glorious angel. I can see the finished project in my head and I wish I had it to this day.

Bayto was such an amazing woman. She was tiny, and it was even more evident among the giants of the Brill family. She was all of 4’10” (my grandfather was 6’2”). She was smart, very smart and well spoken. She grew up in Mexico – an outsider as a Protestant among Catholics. Her father was associated with Poncho Via and she made that sound like an admirable thing. She was always impeccably dressed and in the most classic fashions. She kept her figure by never eating more than more than half her plate. She received many trophies for shooting and believed that god was a fairytale. I will miss her. But at 100 years old it was time for her to have her peace – no question.