“Grief doesn’t have a plot. It isn’t smooth. There is no beginning, and middle and end.”
- Ann Hood
A year ago today, we lost Crescentia Yolanda Hernandez – known as Yolanda, Yoli or Nana, never her given name Crescentia which she hated. Technically, her death wasn’t unexpected – she suffered from a rare, unusually virulent cancer. Statistically, her odds were poor but Yolanda – who came to the US from El Salvador in her early twenties and earned her citizenship – was a fighter. She wanted to live so desperately she endured chemo, radiation, experimental treatments, anything for a little more time.
There were so many things she wanted to do. She voraciously collected, clipped or copied recipes to cook someday, unaware she was already almost out of time. She longed to visit her family in El Salvador but postponed it until she completed her current course of chemo, when she was in better health. She didn’t know – none of us did – it was already too late.
Not a day goes by that my family – who embraced Yolanda as a vital part of that family early in the 32 years she lived with us – doesn’t want to share something with her. She wouldn’t be happy the Clippers traded Chris Paul and Blake Griffin but she’d definitely want to know. I’d like to say things I should’ve said more often and sooner. How she changed our lives for the better, how much we love her and how we’ll always miss her. There’s an empty space in our lives where Yolanda lived. Her bedroom is always, only, Yolanda’s room to us. As long as we live here, it will be Yolanda’s room.
“The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not get over the loss… you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same, nor would you want to.”
Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, (emphasis mine)
We offer this video as a constant reminder of the love and joy Yolanda brought to our lives.
Reyna and kathy February 13, 2018 at 4:40 pm
Thank you for each of your words, God bless your family for everything, thank you for loving our yoli so much and for supporting her in life, we are impressed by every photograph, we are shattered inside but it comforts us to know that they loved her so much, that It was always our anguish. Who helps you and takes care of you? we never imagined that they loved her so much, Thank you for all you did for her, for being those angels that she said she had when we talked on the cell phone! We hope to see her for the last time, many things that will no longer be, by chance I found her blog and I think the meaning of her words was written directly for us even without knowing us, here we have things of her, clothes, her dresses to sleep, every memory that breaks the soul, thanks for that commemoration we are surprised and grateful, It has been a very difficult year to accept that we were alone in the world and when we expected to bury her, we were in shock when we saw her after so long! And having her for the last time here was thanks to you! Thank you God bless you and thank you for everything. Do not reach the words, between tears and emotions, thanks for giving us a piece of yoli!
Reyna Hernández and Katherine Bruno.
Yoli’s sister and niece.
skywhys February 14, 2018 at 4:44 pm
I am so happy to hear from you. I think Yolanda would be happy to know her two families (I know you’re the real family but I feel like she was part of ours) can communicate over the internet. I’ll be happy to send you any more photos and things of interest that I find as we are still sorting through papers (a LOT of recipes!) My daughter Sam and Yoli were especially close – Sam was her favorite and took her to every doctor’s appointment and sat with her through every chemo treatment. On the last night, the whole family was here – my sons dropped what they were doing and came straight home when we let them know time was running out. Yolanda was mostly sleeping but we were in the room with her. Sam was sitting beside her on her bed and holding her hand the last time she opened her eyes. Sam said she smiled at her. I hope she knew – and I hope it comforts you – to know that she was not alone in those last moments. And that she was much loved, not only by us, but by our friends and pretty much everyone who knew her.