||[May. 21st, 2010|03:18 pm]
Today would have been mana vecmāmiņa's 85th birthday, if she had lived. Yesterday we committed her's and my grandfather's ashes to the ground.
"Tu gribe?" (My mother asked if I wanted some of the ashes.)
"Nē. (Jo mana kārta būs, ja tas ir jums, kas ir pagājis)."
That's really the only time I cried yesterday.
Right now, I am burning an insense that reminds me of her. And "Pūt Vējiņi" playing on in my head.
I'm drawn ever closer to my heritage; I believe as a respect for mana vecmāmiņa's life. It appears to be affecting my mother and aunt in the same way.
I'm practicing speaking Latvian to the cat. Heh.