Witches Mag, Issue #5: Time

38 Days

By Caroline Guerrero How can I make sense of an ending that has been eclipsed by a beginning? Where do I put this joy and sorrow, both wrapped in grief, for who I was and who I am? For what I’ve gained and what I’ve lost? I explained it to my therapist like this: On November 1, 2020, at 3:37 am, I gave birth to my first child—a bright-eyed and curious daughter. On December 6, 2020, I turned 30. Three days later, December 9, 2020 at 10:13 pm, my grandpa, the man who raised me as his own daughter, had died.

For approximately 38 days, two of the most important people in my life existed at the same time. My daughter came into this world as I embraced the harmony and self-trust ushered in by entering in my thirties built upon the intense healing and selfadvocacy I had done in the last few years of my twenties. I was so much more than just a new mother when I welcomed Zara into this world. I was finally and resolutely myself. My grandpa left us just as I was saying goodbye to much of my youth and making peace with difficult parts of my past.

I didn’t cry at his funeral at first. I had known my grandpa was dying. And I attempted to temper my grief by preparing myself (as if I could) by reminding myself that we got an extra ten years with him after he almost passed away in 2009. As the oldest daughter of a single Hispanic-Punjabi mother, my duty was to be steadfast for my grandma, my mom, and my younger siblings.

Being a “strong woman” in my family meant no tears unless behind closed doors. When I called my grandma after he died, 105