Remembering my abuelita.

Souvenirs help us with grief.

Hi friends.

It's been a while since I last wrote. Initially, I planned to start with an apology for the delay and quickly move back to our usual travel topics. But then, I paused, realizing the immense value this newsletter community holds for me. So, I’ll share why the silence.

My Grandma, Mom, Dad, and me on my second birthday. :)

A few weeks ago, my paternal grandmother passed away due to complications from pneumonia, and two days after her passing, my young and healthy cousin unexpectedly passed away from a heart attack. It's been rough, to say the least, and if I'm honest, I haven't had the motivation to write. But a recent conversation with one of my girlfriends sparked an idea. She shared anecdotes about her ya-ya and the keepsakes she holds on to that remind her of the beautiful moments they created to help me find similar ways to cope. This conversation reminded me of the moments I created with my grandmother and how they serve as a souvenir that will stay with me long after her passing. Our talk got me thinking about souvenirs and their meaning in our lives. They're incredibly significant to me—that's why I named my shop Recuerdos! :)

The word "souvenir" originates from the French term for "to remember," and in Spanish, it translates to "Recuerdos." While often linked with travel, souvenirs extend beyond journeys. They hold significance in various aspects of life, acting as keepsakes during celebrations, memorabilia by parents to immortalize memories of their children, or even a little token from the most ordinary days; a souvenir can be a simple movie stub or a receipt from a special dinner. Moreover, they also hold a place in the grieving process, serving as tangible connections to cherished moments, offering solace and comfort during loss.

I've always been fascinated by souvenirs because they tell a story of a place, a time, or a person. Be it through a simple postcard—a friend of mine, who recently lost his mom, keeps up the tradition she started: she would send him a postcard from her travels with the message "wish you were here." —or another dear friend, who, having lost her mom last year, keeps her memory by recreating her mother's cherished recipes. These souvenirs hold deep stories and remind us that life is transient and fleeting.

(Left) A usual Sunday at my grandparents'—our weekly visit after church. (Right) Captured in the Dominican Republic—my parents commemorating my 1st birthday. The red dress was a gift from my grandmother, who was already in New York. And a cameo by my aunt in the background. :)

Apart from photographs, I don’t really own many tangible items that I gathered over the years to evoke memories of moments spent with my grandma. But I have the stories and her influence to hold on to.

A text from my Abuela on my birthday.

My grandmother, known affectionately as "Mama Pura," was born in the Dominican Republic and moved to the United States in her forties alongside my grandfather and their children. Despite never traveling beyond the Dominican Republic and New York City, she kept a globe (a gift from me before my trip to East Africa) in her living room because geography was her favorite topic. Whenever I traveled, she'd excitedly grab the globe and proudly show my whereabouts to anyone willing to listen. She was sharp, curious, and incredibly bright, remaining so even at the age of 94. Her quiet strength and gentle compassion were qualities I deeply admired and aspire to embody.

Mi Abuelita gave me my first cup of cafe con leche. We would enjoy this cup of coffee with pan de agua (a famous Dominican bread roll that is soft and fluffy) and dip it in our hot coffee. Even now, whenever I have the opportunity (though now it's more likely a croissant, ha!), I still dip my bread into my coffee—it's a comforting habit that has stayed with me all this time. 

Mi Abuelita influenced my curiosity about people and places. My grandmother was full of knowledge and stories for someone who didn’t cross many borders. She led with curiosity when speaking about other cultures instead of judgment…a quality I find necessary and value deeply.

Mi Abuelita instilled in me a sense of determination. A genuine Leo at heart, she was fiercely resolute—some might even say stubborn—a trait I secretly admired. Even at 94, my grandfather passed away over 20 years ago; she predominantly managed everything on her own, with only some assistance. Even as she aged and clearly required more help, she would assert that she knew what was best for her (as she rightfully should, haha). 

Recuerdos can hold a significant place in our lives—whether physical or not, they remind us of the life we've led and the people and places woven into it.

I'm grateful for the opportunity to share this newsletter with you—it's been a way for me to navigate through my grieving process. And I hope it's encouraged you to take a moment today to reflect on the recuerdos you cherish deeply in your own life.

with love,

Lourdes