Heroes in english are heroes in spanish

2:26am. Wednesday, January 31, 2007. I’m sitting here uploading tons of music my friends Beth, Roe and Patrick have given to me over the past couple of days. Making playlists is something beautiful. It’s so simple, yet time is taken care in every song selection and entices conversation with every addition.

My grandma died yesterday. This music is a form of sympathy in the name of love.

I’m coming back to the states for a few days to be with family and say goodbye to my hero – although I have felt her presence within me all day.

I told many people today stories about Grandma Tutu, known most formally as Kathleen W. Sullivan. I shared memories and quirks, laughs and consejos (advice). I never thought she would die. What a vulnerable thought. But at the same time, she lives on. She never will die - cliché, but completely comprehendible.

Tutu had a great life, and she got to see so much love and support within the family she built here on earth. She was able to see her first grandchild become a wife, to see herself reach her 90^th birthday, to see herself in all of us.

It’s late and I’m emotionally tired. I apologize.

I’ve had a few good past days here. I think about Grandma and what she would say about the beach this weekend. All of us went in the morning on Saturday, and eight of us decided to spend the night for Anthony’s birthday. Fabulous times on the hammocks next to the black sand beach ensued, along with middle school games of “truth or dare” and “never have I ever”. It’s funny to me how we all never really grow up, and amazing the love and support I feel here. It is the constant friendship and touch of a hand against your back. A smile and a direct stare into your soul. A conversation or a silence exchanged in perfect harmony.

I am at home.