My mother said that out of all five of her children
I was the easiest baby
I think what she meant was that I hardly cried,
Rarely fussed
And was generally asleep
Which I guess was a good thing, for her
As the fourth of five she had a lot to deal with before she could get to me
So I made it easier for her
I kept doing it as I grew up
If one of my siblings dropped their ice cream,
I’d give them mine so they’d stop making a scene
When someone had to sit in a middle seat
You can bet that’s where my car seat would be strapped
In fifth grade, when Clara Gomez stole my cookie from my lunch box
I just shrugged, and ate my carrot sticks
My nickname was “montañita”, little mountain
Because I was never moved, never bothered, always calm
In seventh grade, I broke my leg
But I didn’t tell anyone for three days
I just gritted my teeth and hopped along
Until my father found me crying on the bathroom floor
He took me to the hospital, and bought me a cast we couldn’t afford
And when the kids at school called me a cripple
Well, you can guess what I did
In high school, my little sister Sofia was getting picked on by some boys
I pretended I didn’t see it happen
But that night, I switched out her too-small uniform skirt for mine
She stopped getting teased,
And I wore pants for the rest of the year
When my college Algebra professor lost my test and made me retake it, I just nodded and did it
When I got catcalled walking across campus,
I just looked down at the ground
And you
The first day you came up to me and offered to buy me coffee
I was sure you were making fun of me too
So I stayed quiet
Eventually, you flashed me that blinding smile and told me, “Guess I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
I think I said about three words to you that first day
But I gave you my number
And answered when you called
At first, I think, you just thought I was shy
But as the months went on and things got more serious, you stared to get upset when I didn’t tell you things
When I got fired from my part-time job and started skipping lunch to afford my textbooks
I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew it’d upset you
I was right, wasn’t I?
You were so mad when you figured it out
“Here!” You yelled, shoving money at me
“Take it! I don’t need it! You know I have a scholarship, you know my parents send me money, take the goddamn money!”
I just stood there
I’d never had someone yell at me while doing something nice before
When you noticed how stunned I was, you softened your voice
“Please, it hurts me to see you starving yourself. Please, take the money.”
For the first time ever, I talked back
“Why?”
You laughed at me “Because I love you, you idiot.”
I took the money
But snuck most of it back into your wallet that night when you were asleep
For most of the time we dated, we never fought
Even when one of your friends tried to tell me you cheated on me
(I know you hadn’t, the friend was just a jerk)
When he tried to tell me, I just stared at him
Didn’t cry, or yell, or demand proof
That freaked the friend out a bit
He kept trying to convince me, but I stayed so calm he eventually gave up and admitted the truth
Later, you told me you couldn’t believe how amazing I was, to trust you so much
The truth was, I had no idea if it was the truth or not
I just didn’t react because I knew if I did it wouldn’t change the outcome
And I’d learned that staying calm in situations like that gave me the power
Our marriage, too, had very few fights
If you didn’t take out the trash like you said you would, I did it
And when you noticed I’d done your chores, you felt so bad that you’d do some of mine to make it up
When our children misbehaved I never raised my voice, or screamed, or made a scene
I just asked them what they did
And eventually, they’d cave
Our oldest told me once it’d be much less scary if I’d just shout at them like dad did
I figured I’d stay like I was
Calm, quiet, a peacemaker, nonreactive,
For the rest of my life
But you changed that
You jerk
When you died
When you died, it was like that frozen mountain of emotional outbursts inside me melted all at once
Nobody expected it when I stared screaming and sobbing at the funeral
My older brother tried to take me outside
And I punched him in the jaw
(I apologized later, of course)
You’d hardly recognize me now, I think
It’s a lot harder for me to stare blankly now, and take things
Because I keep remembering you saying “Stand up for yourself! You deserve better, mi amor.”
And you’re not here, anymore, to stand up for me
Or our kids
I don’t know how to describe it, exactly
What changed the moment you left this Earth
But it’s like I was blue one moment, and red the next
Hard as ice before I melted into a hurricane
I was a mess for a year or two, I think
Before I managed to get everything under control again
But even now, I’m not like I was
I’m still calm, and rational, and think before I speak
But if anything or anyone threatens our children or their happiness
I know I have to be the one to protect them
And as anyone who’s gone mountain climbing knows
The serene snow-covered peaks that look so tranquil from a distance
Are the deadliest