Vanessa Blanco-Banos
When I was little, my grandmother would rock me to sleep for my nap every day. She would sing lullabies, including my favorite which I called “Lalan, lalan” which was literally her saying lalala in her melodic voice until I fell asleep. She taught me to read. She played puzzles and tangrams with me. She would put records on for my sisters and I so we could dance for hours. She mediated all our squabbles. She made infinite amounts of arroz con pollo, purée de malangas and cafe con leche. She gave to everyone in need. She believed in everyone. She loved politics and would frequently call into AM radio shows to debate. She was a firecracker; always doing things her own way. She never took no for an answer and she was amazing at solving the unsolvable. She was a master storyteller, recounting many hilarious tales which I still share with my children. She relished her eccentricity-once picking me up at school to show me that she had taught her college classes wearing two completely different shoes. She knew every single children’s book by memory, especially her very favorite “The Grouchy Ladybug.” She loved to go on little outings and would get super excited when I would pick her up for a coffee and Target run. She never said no to breakfast at Versailles, IHOP or Ayestaran. She made friends every where she went, often talking to strangers for what seemed like forever. She had boundless patience for my sisters and I. She loved music, especially that by Ñico Membiela, Vicente Fernandez and Frank Sinatra. She loved to have fun and dance, cracking us up by saying “Loose your shoulders, mama” to herself as she danced.
Years ago, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and her final time was colored by that battle. My kids never got to truly experience her true self, but they loved her deeply nonetheless.
She was light and love and now that she is gone the world is a little bit darker.
Abuela, descansa en paz. Gracias por tanto y por todo. Te extrañare siempre. Nunca dejare de hacer tus cuentos y llenarnos de recuerdos de tu luz, tu amor, tu humor, tus logros y tu alegría.
Sara Victoria Rodríguez 4/7/1940 - 2/19/2023 🪲
