In memory of Ruth Mercado

I have no doubt that your last breath here was your first in Heaven.

Love you more.

I had it all together ... until I saw her cry

I didn't cry when the doctors told my mom she had pancreatic cancer.

I shed no tears when the news came the chemo had stopped working and there was nothing more to be done.

My eyes stayed dry even now, as it becomes apparent that the time I have left with her is being measured in days and not weeks.

I'm the oldest. The big brother. The man of the family ever since my dad passed five years ago. There'll be time enough for me to cry, I kept thinking. Later. For now, I have to be rock solid and strong for my mom and my sister. I was doing so well keeping my emotions in check.

And then I saw my niece cry.

I was in the front yard, leaning over the ranch style fence and chiding my nephew for climbing onto the bed of my truck when I turned back to the porch and saw this 7-year-old's arms draped tightly around my seated sister's neck. Her face was buried into her mom's shoulders and her body heaved. Glancing slowly up at me, I could see her eyes red with tears and a look of sadness I never thought I would see - would ever want to see - on her face.

She knows. Oh God.

We had spared the children the news of their grandma's diagnosis. At the time, there was no need. But as the disease progressed, I knew the day was coming fast where we would have to say something. This weekend, with my closest relatives visiting from southern California, turned out to be the time.

I stayed away from the scene as my sister and niece consoled each other on the bench near the porch. This was their time. And as they turned to go back into the house to give grandma a hug, I knew the time had come for me to let it go.

This time, when the tears came, I let them.