SISTER-COUSINS & MADRINAS

I love making fun of my people...all the hispanics with their magenta versions of red dyed hair who point at eveything with their lips. Fat coral painted toes suffocating to squeeze out of one-size-too-small open toe shoes. The way you will never NOT smell Sazon Goya at any latin household. The fact that every hispanic born child of my generation has been physically assaulted with house slippers. The "I hate" list is endless.

However, one thing I marvel in is the idea that no matter how disfunctional hispanic families are...be it a missing father or an always at work mother...there are always other colorful characters placed throughout the family with the ability to slip in and out of any role that needs playing.

Titles don't really mean anything in my house. I have an aunt who is like a father....I have Christine, who is like that white lady that had to live with the Munsters.....I have an overbearing mother who was mis-cast in the role, but does an oscar-worthy turn as the unlikely family "mother"...and if you have to live in the jungle, you'd choose a lioness as your mom.

I have my cousin, Mayte. Because we were raised together we always thought of each other as siblings, to the point where we called each other so.....now, years later, we are both adults and it feels alien to my tongue to utter her name with the word cousin. The title doesn't fit. Its too small. I have so many close friends that to me are more valuable than most blood ties.

To top it all off, we all had a "madrina". Madrina is the word for godmother in Spanish. My Madrina was never actually my godmother...nor was she Mayte's. She was my aunt-father's. She was also my mother's best friend since grade school. She was jovial and always laughing and a big fraidy cat that everyone got a kick out of getting a rise from. We all addressed her as Madrina...and I've never even been baptized.

Unfortunaltely, Madrina passed away this Thursday, way too young.

This blog isn't meant to be mushy....its about poop most times, but some observations occur throughout the poop.
1. sometimes being spic-y is kind of cool....and 2. labels are for jars, ya'll!

Every time I spoke to Madrina she always mentioned two things. One was that she'd say I have "a beautiful laugh" whenever she'd make a joke...which I think we'd all agree with...among many other beautiful qualities.
The other was that she'd always ask when I was gonna make it big so I could take her and my mom to Spain.

The making it big part is out of my hands, but make it to Spain, I will...and my mother and I will go to Madrid and Barcelona. We will go to Valencia and Sevilla and Mallorca and we will sit in an outdoor restaurant and order paella and sangria and raise our glasses in a toast...To Madrina.