By Mariana Jimenez

I have vivid memories
of refusing to claim your name as mine
Así no me llamo. No me gusta ese nombre.

Pero el jueves en la madrugada you ceased
to be the woman my pa loved dearly,
whose immense compassion and love was like no other,

whose life story will never
be told by her own by her own mouth
to an ungrateful bisnieta.

as a kid I heard the story of how when I had just been born,
You came and inspected me from head to toes, vistes que había nacido con aretes
and you still proclaimed me beautiful the way I was.

I remember this and regret
every waking moment I felt ashamed carrying your name as part of me.
I remember this when it is too late to ask you
about your life and your passions

I was ripped away from you by promises of
money y un futuro

A sour taste in our mouth lingers every Sunday,
We are reminded of our paperlessness around every corner,
and we feel the deep ache for Zimatlán
where we left our hearts y tu memoria.
Tu memoria vivirá en mi, y me dará fuerza

Descansa en paz Chavela.
Te tendré en mi corazón y
aunque sé que no lo meresco
espero que me estés