Flight (death in the family)

Procreate drawing by Maria Rosales Gerpe

Tata passed away today, Sunday, February 23rd just past noon.

“Oh God, no, God no.” Was the first thing I heard my mom say. “Please wake up, mama, please wake up.” That was the second. On the phone to her caregiver.

Mom thought she’d make it in time to say goodbye. She leaves tomorrow for Cuba.

I thought I would have another year so she would meet her great grandson.

“I don’t know how I’m going to bury her.”

We have no claim to resting places in Havana anymore. In Cuba, everything belongs to the government, especially when you leave.

“Bring her home,” I say. “Cremate her.”

I look at a Canadian government website that says it should be ok as long as she has her death certificate, a cremation certificate, and a sealable container that is not ceramic, metallic, or marble.

“A plastic container should do, mamá.”

“What about my layover in Miami?”

We’re worried the US won’t be so forgiving. Neither of us knows if Cuba will allow it too. I put my phone away.

With our bags full of toys and essentials for family in Cuba, we finish eating in silence at the McDonald’s in Walmart.

I stare at the ibuprofen and acetaminophen the caregiver requested that Tata won’t need anymore.

“I thought we had more time.” I say. “I thought we had more time.”

“When we get home, we need to give Aba medication,” my son breaks the silence in the car ride.

“Why?” I ask.

“She’s hurting.”

“Aba doesn’t need medication; she’s just sad.”

“Why?” He asks.

“Her mom just passed away. Her mom’s not here anymore.”

“Oh.”

My son doesn’t quite understand death yet. He’s only four. Last year, he experienced his first death in the family — his harabuji.

We were all in a room, mourning, while harabuji was claiming his last breaths. We got to say goodbye. I was amazed at how lucky we were.

This time like many others, we didn’t get to say goodbye. It’s the price you pay when you immigrate.

Tata wasn’t alone, and yet she was.

“I promised her I’d see her on Thursday.” My mom bursts into tears over what feels like a broken promise.

On Thursday, before the flight was canceled.