Voice of An angel

By Angel Espinoza

A lot of people have hobbies as kids that later become a part of their lives, that’s if they’re really dedicated. But what happens when the hobby you desired most does not mean as much to you anymore? 

When I was a kid around 2010, I enjoyed singing a lot, Mexican songs to be specific. I loved singing so much, my mom would take me to her Godmothers house and her Godmothers husband would be there waiting for me to record music with him.

I had a lot of favorite artist thanks to him. I mostly sang songs from artist like Chalino Sanchez, Tigrillo Palma, Los inguietos de norte, Los tigres del norte, and los alegres del barranco. 

I sang every chance I got even if it had to be at a family party. I know a lot of people liked my singing because I was young and had a pretty good voice, but I felt as if only one person truly loved my singing, mi abuelita Terressa. 

Everytime she saw me, she would ask me to sing her a song. Her favorite songs were “La paloma azul” and “Nieves de Enero”. My mom had bought me a guitar so everytime I knew I was gonna see my grandmother, I knew I had to take my guitar. 

The next time I saw her, something was off. She had no more legs. I was seven years old and no one told me why so that question was on my mind a lot, and to be honest, I never thought looking at my grandmother would scare me. She was diabetic and had got her legs amputated.

The next time I saw her, it was around 2012, everyone was in her house. Not just hanging out like we usually do, but they were crying this time while she was in her bed. I was singing to her while she was slowly dying and I didn’t even realize it. 

“Is my grandma okay?” I would tell myself. 

I didn’t know how to feel or what to say. One morning I woke up, my brothers were gone and my mom was crying. I over heard her on the phone, my grandmother was gone. My brothers had gone to see her without even telling me. 

They didn’t take me to see her and I didn’t know why. Maybe my brothers were just trying to protect my feelings, I was only 7 so I wouldn’t know much. I did know I was mad, I needed more time to see her. I needed to sing her favorite song to her one last time, unfortunately, I had to learn I would never be able to sing to her again. I had lost not just my Grandmother, but also my biggest supporter.

My Grandmother would always tell me “Tienes voz de angelito mijo” meaning I have the voice of an Angel, but it makes me sad knowing that I won’t be able to hear my Angels voice again. 

I recently had looked at some guitars and acordions online. I have been thinking about getting back to music after more than a decade. Although this won’t feel the same, I know mi abuelita Terressa would be proud of me looking at me from above. And maybe in another universe, I would get to sing to her every song she wishes without a worry of us knowing life would break us apart.

For the Warrior times, this is Angel Espinoza.