DatelineCarolinaPersonal essay: Grandmother's smile hides life of hardship

Personal essay: Grandmother's smile hides life of hardship

By Beth Toland

As Ines Garcia rocks back and forth in her recliner, Fox News drones on in the background. She fights the fatigue, jerking her eyelids open as they drift shut. The kitchen's strong aroma reminds her of the dirty pots left sitting on the stove.

Her rest quickly interrupted, she pushes down firmly on both armrests, rocks forward and thrusts herself up from her seat. As she makes her way toward the kitchen, she passes more than a decade's worth of family photographs.

She values her family more than any woman I know. And so, on nights when the entire crew of 26 is in town (three children and two spouses, eight grandchildren and five spouses and eight great-grandchildren with two more on the way), she slaves away in her kitchen. It's an all-day affair as she hovers over the stove, diligently preparing traditional Puerto Rican dishes.

Despite the 83 years under her belt, my grandmother refuses not to cook, denying any accusations that she's ever too sick or tired. Instead, she prepares the most delicious meals with a giant smile constantly plastered to her face.

Behind that smile, however, lie stories of hardship and love, which she has hidden from her grandchildren for years.

After her mother died when Ines was 19, she assumed the maternal role, caring for her father and four sisters. Five years later, Ines married her husband, Fernando, who was also in search of a better way of life.

But shortly after their marriage, Ines and Fernando were forced to spend six long months apart when he moved to America in hopes of finding a stable career and home.

The years to follow were some of the most difficult times for my grandmother. Fernando was diagnosed with colon cancer, and the couple struggled as friends and family begged them to return to Puerto Rico. The pair eventually complied. But, after uprooting their three children, Ines and Fernando quickly learned of his brother's death back in the States.

Every weekend, my grandfather began traveling back and forth between Puerto Rico and the U.S. Finally, my grandmother decided she, too, had to return to America with her children.

Ines and Fernando continued to work tirelessly in the banking industry, year after year, to provide for their family, until Fernando suddenly died from a heart attack at 58.

Yet, today, despite it all, you can still see the love in my grandmother's eyes as we all crowd around the kitchen table and listen to her stories. Her memories don't carry regret or self pity of any kind. Instead, they focus heavily on the good – her daily lunch dates with my grandfather in New York City parks and long summers at the beach.

She continues to stand undefeated – stronger than ever. She's never loved another man. Fernando's memory and her love of family have always been enough to overcome any obstacle in my grandmother's life. After all, she's superwoman.