Kenia Viamonte
Titi. Tia Esther. Esthercita. Regardless of what we called her, she was love. Peace maker, counselor, prayer warrior…everything that came from her was packaged in warmth, positivity & light- tied up with a beautiful bow carefully curated for each of us. She personified faith in action. She was a potent mix of sass & sensitivity. She was fiercely independent & coyly interdependent all at once. She always had a right answer, even if it was not as right as she thought. She had a very reliable memory, of the useful things & of the odds & ends you’d like to tuck neatly away in the land that time forgot. She was the reliable (and remaining) historian of our family’s patchwork quilt, in Cuba & in the 305. She was Tio Raul’s Gordita. She was the devoted caretaker for many in our tribe. She made the best pasta salad and had a deep appreciation of guava & cheese (and sweets in general). She rocked her leggings, peplum blouses & open toed sandals. We loved her gumption. And her smile, ever present. Countless memories of her in the kitchen, doing her nails & her severe fear of roaches (& the hilarious antics that ensued consequent to it)…her calls (thrice in a row) checking in on everyone- literally everyone & her treasured cards to my husband, kids and I. I think of her and there is only love. In all my days passed & however many I have left to live- for her, there will only & forevermore be love.