It's been 32 days since you left.  I miss you -- we all miss you.  What I will always remember is the woman you were: fierce, bold, strong.

You protected us fiercely.  No matter how old we were!  In high school, I remember complaining to you about an English teacher who was being very mean and sarcastic and had made me cry.  You bolted up and went to the high school to talk to that teacher.  When you got no resolve there, on to my counselor you went.  Needless to say, I was in another English class the next day.  Thank you for protecting us!

You were bold.  You never let anyone or anything get in your way of accomplishing something you set your mind to.  You instilled that in us.  I remember when I was getting ready to start my transcription business and told you I was scared to make "cold calls."  You told me -- just do it.  What's the worst they can say --No?  Thank you, Mom, for reminding us that we need to be bold to reach our goals.

You were strong.  Raising six children on your own was no easy feat.  I'm sure we all broke your heart into a million pieces at least once, yet you were always there for us, no matter what.  Even when things looked bad, you found a way to make it bright.  Thank you for giving us that strength -- we definitely need it now.

I miss you, Mom.  Love you always and forever.  Until we see each other again, keep watch over us.


Nana’s children took such good care of her. If she wasn’t living with me, just down the hall from my bedroom, then I would visit her at my aunt’s and uncle’s houses. I have so many memories of being with her and meeting my cousins, pretending to play golf, playing board games, tending to the garden we planted together and making stone soup. 

Some of my most precious, now timeworn memories of her are going to the grocery store together and she would let me pick out those Hawaiian nectar drinks that come in the cans. I just had one the other day and they’re WAY too sweet, but she always had a sweet tooth. Even in her old age. I don’t remember how many sugars she took in her coffee but she’d let you know if it wasn’t enough. 

“Ah-ah-ah don’t be stingy now!” she’d say, and I would give her want she wanted.

It’s the least I could ever do, after all the bedtime stories one after another after another, all the toys she hand-sewed for me, the rides home from school and the delicious meals she cooked. She spoiled me absolutely rotten. 

As I lay in bed tonight holding the blanket she crocheted for me only 5 short years ago, I feel her love. She didn’t say it then, but she was rushing and rushing to make it for me. Calling to ask me what the weather would be like in Japan, and if it gets real cold. She didn’t know if she would be around when I got back. I’ve said goodbye to my Nana for what might have been the last time so many different times in the last few years. Although I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye this time, I feel secure knowing that we always said what we meant to each other. 

When we spoke for the last time over the phone she had been watching the news. Some terrible story was blasting in the background as we made our way through what I’ve been doing, how’s what’s-his-name, and what did I did for work again?

“Okay Mijo, I’ll let you go now okay?”

“Okay Nana, I love you.”

“I love you too baby, muah!” 

It's odd the memories we hold on to.  Silly and trivial in the eyes of most, but define how we view what's in the heart of others.

February 12, 1990.  Back when I still had optimism and most of my hair.  Before the internet, before cell phones.  No Instagram and no social media.  I woke up to the biggest news a sports obsessed teen could find.

Mike Tyson was knocked out the night before.  I was shocked, in awe, practically jumping up and down at what I just learned.  As most, you just want to share exciting news with someone.

It was just me and Nana in that apartment.

I could hear my voice cracking with excitement, explaining what happened as if World War 3 was about to start.

She knew it was important to me, so she made it important to her.  I knew it didn't matter much to her, but she mimicked my excitement and tried to share this important moment with me.

I lived with Nana off and on growing up, and what I remember most is her compassion and understanding when I just needed someone to connect and bond with.

She tried so hard to make me feel loved.

My Mom LOVED her animals!!!  We always had a pet for long as I can remember, it didn't matter how poor we were, we always had at least one pet in the house, even if it meant they had to eat macaroni with beans and tomato sauce with the rest of us!!

My favorite story to tell people about the cat we have now is that EVERY SINGLE cat that we owned back then was called Kitty no matter how many cats we had, they were all called Kitty.  So that's why my cat is called Kitty, which leads to some interesting comments when I took her to the vet.

I find myself 'baby talking' to my pups the same way Mom did, it's kinda strange to hear her words with my voice, but it's just another connection that I will always have with Mom.

Mom, I hope you're having a great reunion with all our family members that have gone to be with Jesus, and since All Dogs Go To Heaven, I'm sure you're having a GREAT time playing and talking to the many pets that have passed through the years as well.  As for the cats...hmmmm I don't know if they make it to heaven, since they are such a pain here on earth ;)

Want to give condolences to all the family. Auntie Maddie always had a smile, that’s what I remember, and gave great big hugs. Even though we didn’t see each other for awhile, it nice to see what she was doing through FB. We got to celebrate one of her birthdays , it was nice to see her after so many years. Rest In Peace auntie.

We will miss you very much Auntie Maddie we love you with all our hearts. Our thoughts and prayers go out to all my cousins🙏❤

Happy Mother’s Day Nana! I love you so much!! It still feels like you are coming back but I know it’s cause you will remain in our hearts and close to us forever. I am glad Jake and I were able to share with you our plans for our future. You best believe we are going to talk about you to our kids and how much you love A LOT of creamer in your coffee! Also, how loving you were and especially how beautiful of a nana you were. Don’t worry nana I’ll take good care of your mijo Jake cause you know he’s a handful lol. I love you Nana! 

My favorite memories of my nana was when she would watch me as a boy. In the morning during breakfast we would talk about the farm we would one day cultivate and she would tell me how silly I was for wanting to have giraffes on our out west farm. When it was nap time, she told me the garbage man was coming and I would scurry under the covers, so she could protect me. After nap time we would go walk and pick up my brother from school. I love you nana and appreciate what you have done as the matriarch of the family. Gone but never forgotten. 

A strong, independent, not taking any crap, loving woman. My favorite memories are hearing her call my name and then quietly/sweetly saying “get me a pickle....?” And her making tortillas and me crawling on the ground and then reaching up to the counter to sneak a tortilla while they were still warm. One time when Raquel was visiting, we kept sneaking tortillas while Nana had her back turned, and I grabbed one just as nana turned to say something to me, and had nowhere to put it except in my pants and it was so hot it burned so bad and i just cringed and walked away so she wouldn’t know I took a tortilla. And her picking me, David, and Jake up from school in her little van. Her stories, her food, her scent, her laugh, the face she would make when I would tell her something ridiculous I had done. We used to play pranks on each other, like tickling her feet with a feather when she fell asleep, and one time when she was getting revenge on me she came in my room while I slept and tied yarn around my toes. And the way she said, “Hi, mija” that I can still hear in my head when I say “hi nana.” And the way she was so strong-willed that a 6 month survival prognosis years ago made her scoff and say “yeah right.” And the way she was so strong-willed that when she was ready to go, she just said the words and left us less than a week later, because she was ready to go and she said it was going to happen. Who else is that brave and strong and able? Only nana. The last words she said when we saw her right before passing was repeatedly saying, “I love you I have to go.” She loves us all and didn’t want to leave us, but knew she had to go. 

Mom, there are no words to describe how much you will be missed. You loved unconditionally   When I think of you it’s when you would snuggle up with me and stroke my hair and make everything all better with just  a few simple kind words of encouragement and your strength radiated not just with words but with everything you were.  When I remember you it will always be with the love you had for family. Rest easy mama I love you xoxo 

Hola Mi Amor, mi vida,

Not a day that goes by since you went home that I don’t miss you. I see you everywhere. I put on your “beautiful” lotion on me to smell you. It comforts me. I know your in peace and catching  up with Grama and Autie Wesa and all of our loved ones who have went home. We love you mama. It just happened so fast! My heart hurts. For ever your son David John. 

It’s been only seven days. The house is so empty. It feels as you may come back, like you did before: from your hospital trips across town. No  one calls us by name when we walk in the house anymore. No one asks for a glass of water. We look in to your room full of candles and flowers, we’re  looking at your smiling face in pictures. But it’s so quiet; you don’t ask for anything - like you don’t need us anymore - like you got everything now. You are with the One who loved you the most, who understood your love through your suffering. We want to see you again; happy and smiling, kind and sweet, loving and good. That’s how you were; that’s how we’ll remember you; that’s how we’ll recognize you again. I love you Nana. Your mijo Peter. 

Mama, I love you, it’s so quiet in the house. I miss you calling me “DAAVIID”. 

She was a special type of lady. I came into her family when i was 5. i’m sure i was a brat but she always accepted me like one of her own from the beginning. I used to remember the number of grandchildren she had but i have lost count. i’m going to miss her yelling at dad for whatever joke he said or how she would call us cut names when we did something dumb. She had a special kind of love and never was mad at any of us for joy being able to make it out to see her. she was the most understanding. Our hearts ache for you but watch over us and keep us safe. we love you  ❤️❤️❤️

my most favorite memory that i love to tell over and over...  Nana had dentures for idk how long.  Majority of her grandchildren were around the same age. So during holidays or birthday parties she would tell us to make sure and brush our teeth or we would have to take all our teeth out and get false teeth. So at the end of her lecturing us.... she would pop them bad boys out and IT FREAKED ME OUT SO MUCH. So Nana made me appreciate my teeth. ❤️❤️❤️❤️ love you nana. miss you to the moon. 💋💋

OBITUARIO

Mariaelena "Maddie" Bravo

5 agosto, 1941 – 21 abril, 2021

Montecito Memorial Park and Mortuary

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