THE LEGACY OF A MATRIARCH

“The value of the myth is that it takes all the things we know and restores them the rich significance which has been hidden by the veil of familiarity.”

-C.S. Lewis

My paternal grandmother was an incredible woman. Having left Cuba in 1988, “Abuela Mime”[1] flew to the United States to take a shot at the promised American dream. The wishing for this dream came with difficult decisions and harsh realizations. By 1988, much of the family had been divided as her middle daughter, her brother, her nephew, and her sister-in-law were picked up in the 1980s during the Mariel Boatlift[2]. My grandmother’s sister was even more fearless. With the determination to pick up us as many family members possible through the Mariel harbor, my great-aunt made 2 trips to the island of Cuba (from Miami) in her husband’s lobster-fishing cruiser. Since the Cuban government limited Cuban citizens to leave the port, my grandmother and my aunt would remain on the island until 1988. Their exodus would be halted for another 8 years. In 1988, through a jurisdictional claim to come to the states, my grandmother (and eldest daughter) was allowed to fly to Miami, FL and be reunited with her sister. Faced with the difficult decision in leaving my father behind, Abuela Mime never stopped working behind the scenes to have her entire family reunited in the states. By 1988, my father had been married with my mother (over 3 years) and conceived two children (my sister and me). We were toddlers of barely 2 and 3 years old when Abuela Mime left us. On July 20th, 1995, a day after her birthday, my grandmother welcomed all my family to her home in Miami, FL. Her wishes to get her family to the land of freedom would be “the best birthday present God could ever give me” she would repeat happily, followed by her gleeful, familiar anthem: “Ay, Dios mío.”[3]

When Abuela Mime was alive, she often reminded me of her favorite memory of my youth prior to leaving Cuba. She spoke about my complexion and demeanor, graciously and patiently waiting under the hibiscus tree. It was from this tree, she recounted, that she would see my golden curls, kindly mistaken by strangers to be that of a girl. It was after her departure in 1988 that my hair was finally cut and my masculinity affirmed. In my spirit, I would argue that a shortened hair was a visible mourning act on how my soul recanted and sweetly missed the matriarch who had always waited for me under the hibiscus tree. She would later confess to me that the thought of me longing for her return under “the little tree” made her extremely sorrowful. Yet, for the years to follow, Abuela Mime remained hopeful that she would one day see me again.

Abuela Mime’s greatest consolation and devotion was to see all her family reunited in the United States. In the states, she worked for many years cleaning houses and clinics for special population children.  When her health started to decline, she assumed the hobby of collecting aluminum cans in nearby neighborhood and parks. She would walk for miles at a time. Her concept of being a provider to her family never left her spirit. She would use the revenue from the aluminum cans to assist my family in the little things we needed to get acclimated to the American culture. Even when she could not serve us with her physical body, Abuela Mime delighted us with her under-salted meals. What was true to her nature, Abuela Mime became a hunter-gatherer aficionado. Even when her failing health sheltered her in an assisted-living facility, she still managed to give her grandchildren “the little gifts” we quickly learned to love and accept. Yogurts, juices, and even sealed gelatine desserts from her assisted facility became Abuela Mime’s endearing gifts for us kids. It was always polite to accept. We were never allowed to refuse.  

In 2016, I became a pediatric nurse, and I spoke to Abuela Mime almost every day. As the years went by, it got harder for Abuela Mime to get up in time to get to the phone. Still, she always reminded me that it was important for me to ring twice. Despite her failing strength and ongoing health issues, Abuela Mime was always determined to answer the call. In her last living years, Abuela Mime became a ferocious prayer warrior. It was so beautiful to see her enthusiasm and the conviction to tell me how God had answered her prayers. I can only ascertain that I miss her maternal protection and her warmth today. When we collected her personal belongings last year after her death, she had a book with scribbles and prayers for many people in our family, mine included. What a legacy my grandma lived and with such perseverance! On September 11th, 2025, as my grandmother passed away at 5:15 am, my aunt described her passing as if Abuela Mime had fallen asleep. Thirty-one years today and I cannot help but thank my grandmother for the sacrifices she made for us to come to the U.S. I do not know when and how long I have on this Earth, but I certainly look and hope to see Abuela Mime kindly and patiently waiting me for me under the little hibiscus tree. That would have been enough. Such is the legacy of a matriarch and Proverbs 31 radiantly describes her as such:
 

Who can find a woman of worth? Far beyond jewels is her value…She girds herself with strength; she exerts her arms with vigor. She enjoys the profit from her dealings; her lamp is never extinguished at night…She opens her mouth in wisdom; kindly instruction is on her tongue…Her children rise up and call her blessed…Many are the women of proven worth; but you have excelled them all…the woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.[4]
 

A Powerful Woman: Ode to My Wonderful [Grandmother][5]
 
When a powerful woman departs from this world
She leaves behind a great legacy
For real, she rests in eternal peace
Because her entire life was lived not only for herself
But for countless generations to come
 
When a powerful woman departs from this world
Although her loved ones shed tears
They still look back and appreciate
As they affectionately remember
What she has done for them
 
When a powerful woman departs from this world
Her beautiful memories remain
Her wonderful contribution embraced
Her colorful name celebrated
By those whose lives she changed
When a powerful woman departs from this world,
No one can dispute that she made her mark

[1] Pronunciation: Mime = “Mee-May”
[2] Mariel Boatlift: The Mariel exodus (also called the Mariel Boatlift) took place between April 15 and October 31, 1980. Cuban Americans organized hundreds of private boats to pick up relatives and others from Mariel Harbor, creating what became known as the Mariel Boatlift.
[3] Translation: “Oh my Lord” or “Oh my God”
[4] Proverbs 31: 10, 17-18, 26, 28, 30
[5] “From My Mother’s Classroom: A Badge of Honour for a Remarkable Woman” by Gift Gugu Mona

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"Thou knowest, O my God, that it is neither from ambition nor the love of glory that I make war on the enemies of Thy name, but in order to strike terror into those that blaspheme it."

-St. Ferdinand III of Castile