Lady of the Dolls: A Butterfly's Eulogy of Sorts

(for Josefina Saenz Tamariz (1921-2013 of La Mesa, NM)

  "Ahhh Precipice on You we kneel!

Gently holding cooling wrinkled hands

Of virgin pallor, 'til the other gentle forces tug

Them up away from us as we are down,
And they are up and even up... but we,

Behind, a holy knighting's dub,  cry hopeful...

Kneeling on a holy ground,  a sangreale, do find

Ourselves with arms arisen reaching as to

Follow wisped-in-air like tail kite there aft.

But we...so softly...unadapted, stand departed from;

And they departed to; yet sacredness of place
Transfirms to sacredness of memory; Alas, it's

There, to magic-kingdom-meta-thought we go;
At least for now, to life's uncertain span of

Meantime; 'til the day we find our hands

In others' hands, so softly touching skin to skin,

Our harbinger of incubated "us-ness." palm in palm
As palmers dance with fingertiplets split apart, 
To wave goodbye, to levitate so gently pulled
Away and to; and to; and to a summit sense-of-self,
That unbeknownst to noble knights below,
Energic hearts above envelop theirs as air-like movement
Of the butterflies' goodbye Ahhhmaazes...chrysalizes, 
You, ... the blurring precipice below, and I the principessa
Winged flutter-birth rides high and on and up and up.  

 

Tom Baca (August 2013)

 

For those of you who peruse my blog, it's probably odd to see a poem begin it. It is a poem I wrote upon meditating on the long life of Josefina Saenz Tamariz. I reluctantly use her entire name as she never gave me permission to use it in such a public medium as the Internet. Yet, I felt compelled to do so as she represented a departure of sorts into the annals of a world when a singular life such as hers might go forgotten.

 

You see, though Fina as we called her had a large family of sisters and brothers, nieces and nephews and grand nieces and grand nephews, Fina had no children of her own. Well, you say, she is not alone; there are many women who for different and varied reasons had no children. And my answer is, "true." However, unfortunately, as time passes and generations move on, it seems the "purposefulness" of these women will seem to wane and be forgotten. I would like for Fina's purposefulness through the simplicity of her joy never to be forgotten. As memories quickly fade and sooner or later pictures in the box become unidentifiable perhaps a written memorial on the Ethernet could prevent a sad forgetting of this soul of lightness. She is so memorable that even my son who visited the nursing home several times before his departure to Orlando, Florida, will remember her...one musical heart gently passed another. She would perhaps be the lady of the dolls and music.

 

I won't go on about her except to say that I ministered to the family at her Wake Service in which we celebrated the Luminous Mysteries of the Holy Rosary. During the service, I mediated upon these five mysteries brought to us by Pope John Paul II in his Apostolic Letter, Rosarium Virginae. The other touchable aspect of Fina's departure from this world was the fact I often would converse with her at a local nursing facility wherein she would grace the hallways with her wheel chair and with her beautiful voice. For someone who was past ninety years old, Fina could sing Las Mananitas like a professional vocalist. Her presence in that otherwise somber nursing facility lifted everyone in the midst of havoc and confusion, a condition of which she was no stranger due to her advanced age and challenged memory.

 

For several years before she died, Fina thought she had babies. She would hold her two little dolls and talk to them as if they were her own. Please stop now and think about this, not in the "oh poor thing sense." But think about it in terms of "oh how wonderful this process of aging was to allow her the joy and pleasure that is endemic to being woman. All of her life had been focused upon her diligence and loyalty to her husband and to her extended family. She was a mother to her sisters and brothers and to their children. So all of this love condenses to a "mesmerized  reality" of loving and practicing that love as good mothers do. This was no thing to make fun of or laugh about except to enjoy the fact that she was joyful over so unreal a thing as two dolls. .... child-like, a reductio-ad-sapientiam or a reduction to true wisdom.

 

And so my encounters with Fina were grace itself. I heard her sing and she graced my ears. No doubt her heart graced God's own ears as well. I touched her delicate hands as she would at first try to figure out who I was. And after a little interchange and I brought to her mind that I was friends with her sister and with her beloved town of La Mesa, New Mexico, she would open up like a bird and tell me about her children an how she would teach them right from wrong, good from bad, and that bad is bad and good is good. Fina's delicate firmness lifted my heart to think I must never forget this beautiful woman. And so, I had the grace to bless her wispy feather of a woman and ask this lady of grace to pray for me and all she's gladly left behind though she loved them so. I hear her voice among the choirs of heaven. This butterfly will keep everyone in heaven on key.

 

In the end, I am hopeful that in the annals of time, this little blog post about Fina will be found by someone of her family in the future who will know a little about her lest she be forgotten as photographs are perused in times to come. I am hopeful Fina's family will not mind my words of deep regard and caring for this unforgettable woman.