Papa Who Wakes Up Tired in the Darkby Adelia Larkin
Your abuelito is dead
This is the early morning Esperanza finds out her Grandfather had passed away.
And then as if he just heard the news himself, crumples like a coat and cries, my brave Papa cries.
I know he will have to go away, that he will take a plane to Mexico, all the uncles and aunts will be there and they will all have to take a black-and-white photo taken in front of the tomb with flowers shaped like spears in a white vase because this how they send dead away in that country
My Papa, his thick hands and thick shoes, who wakes up tired in the dark, who combs his hair with water, drinks his coffee, and is gone before we wake, today is sitting on my bed.
And I think if my own Papa died what would I do. I hold my Papa in my arms. I hold and hold and hold him.