Sometimes we don't appreciate the people God has placed in our lives until they are gone. One significant person in my life when I was a child was my great-grandmother, Consuelo. She is the one I have the fondest memories of when I was between the ages of 4 and 6 years old. Though my mother was already in the United States, my brothers and I had to wait two years on our visas so that we could go live with her. During that time, she along with my great-grandfather raised my brothers and me.
As is true of most grandmothers or great-grandmothers, Consuelo was the one who would reprimand me when I was wrong, but she was also the one to console me with her love afterwards. Her name literally means comfort or consolation. I can remember Consuelo being partially incapacitated; she would have attacks that would render her unable to walk for extended periods of time, but she would always ensure I was taken care of. It was a very sad day when my brothers and I had to say goodbye to my great-grandfather and her to move to the United States. I did not know if I would ever see them again. My great-grandfather believed that he would never see us again and he was right. He died before any of us were able to return. Consuelo, on the other hand, believed that she would get to see us all at least one more time before she died.
I was thirteen years old before I was able to see Consuelo again. I was the last of my siblings to return to the Dominican Republic to visit for the summer. Unfortunately, Consuelo was completely incapacitated by this time. She was in a wheelchair and needed everything to be done for her. When I first saw her I was afraid to come near her. She was not the same woman I remembered. She called out to me in a very weak voice and I hesitantly came near her and allowed her to look me over. Looking back, how I wish I would have just wrapped my arms around her and told her how much I loved her and appreciated her being such an integral part of my life. Instead I acted like an ungrateful teenie bopping brat. I was now an “American” and had completely dismissed my roots. I spent the next several days, there on the farm I grew up in, avoiding her.
Years later I realized how wrong I was and how unjustly I treated Consuelo, knowing how much she loved me and demonstrated it always when I was a child. I wished I could go back in time and correct that, but I understand how time works; you can never recapture it. I thank God for the brief time she was in my life. Going forward, I try to make it a point to tell people how much they mean to me. God placed people in our lives to help mold and shape us into who we are. I encourage you to call or write a note to someone special in your life and let them know how much they mean to you. You never know when God is going to move them from your life.