SIMPLICITY AND WISDOM – The family

On December 23, I will turn 50, having lived my entire life in São Miguel, in the Azores.

I was my paternal grandparents’ first granddaughter and the first of four daughters, a role I took on with a sense of responsibility. I feel that being an only child until the age of 6, surrounded by love, gave me an aura of protection that still accompanies me today.

My grandparents’ influence was fundamental in my childhood. My paternal grandfather was an enterprising man, focused on business, an example of determination that my father inherited. My maternal grandparents—he a shoemaker and she a cook—worked hard to raise their seven children. Aspiring to a better life, they emigrated to Canada, where they remained for a few years.

I have no memories of my maternal grandfather, as he passed away shortly after my birth, but my maternal grandmother had a profound impact on my life. She was like a second mother to me, because after my grandfather died, she came to live in our house, where she remained for 18 years, until she passed away. It was from her, in her simplicity and wisdom, that I learned the value of gratitude. She had an extraordinary relationship with her son-in-law, who was like another son to her.

My grandmother had never been to school, but she could read and write perfectly, with beautiful handwriting; she was very intelligent. She also had a special way of showing that, no matter how challenging life might be, there was always something to be thankful for; she taught me to appreciate the little joys and to seize the opportunities that life presents. Perhaps that is why, since I was a child, I have always believed that it is not worth planning too much, because life has its own special way of guiding us. That is what happened to me…

I married the man of my life at the age of 20, and two years later we had our only daughter. He was a neighbor of my paternal grandparents; in fact, in the Azorean parishes, we are all neighbors or relatives of each other. I met him before I even opened my eyes.

After I was born, my mother, whose parents had emigrated, went to recover at her in-laws’ house. As was customary, when a baby was born, neighbors and friends would visit the newborn. The boy, then 6 years old, went to my grandparents’ house with his mother to meet the newborn.

Even today, he remembers his eagerness to meet the baby. Even without picking me up or touching me, I believe that something transcendental happened at that moment. Perhaps it was fate, subtly weaving the invisible bonds that tied us together.

The years passed and our connection grew stronger as we got to know each other better, as if those bonds that already united us were finally recognized. We felt like pieces of a puzzle that fit together.

We grew together as a couple, overcame adversity, and celebrated victories, always certain that our love would guide us. The greatest victory of all is our 27-year-old daughter, whom we are proud of for the woman of solid values she has become. Last April, she left home to start her own family, and while we are happy for her, we still suffer from empty nest syndrome.

Building a life project together goes far beyond our individual achievements. According to my husband, the secret to a good relationship is knowing when to be quiet, not responding to everything. My mother-in-law used to say that two people only fight if one wants to.

I thought that my life, in itself, was nothing special to talk about, that I had done nothing special beyond the routine of work and home, that I had a mundane story. But when I think that I have never had a major problem or heartbreak, when I value the work I do with such dedication, when I feel grateful for the husband and daughter I have, for the wonderful parents who are still here, and when I am overcome with a sweet longing for my maternal grandmother—my foundation—perhaps I have to conclude that what I have had and have in my life is indeed very special. After all, if this isn’t happiness, then what is?

My grandmother passed away at the age of 85, on December 19, very close to Christmas. As Catholics, we live this season intensely. Since her passing, sadness always arises, but I have learned that even when we are sad, we can be happy.

By: Bibiana Andrade / MHB

In https://www.facebook.com/nosnosoutros

Here is yet another Stories from the Azores: Lives Between Oceans, a living archive of voices shaped by insularity, the sea, and survival. These stories honor men and women who left, returned, or remained, carrying with them the courage to face uncertainty and the resilience to endure hardship. Each tale is rooted in the volcanic soil of the Azores, where identity is forged in wind and salt, and yet reaches beyond the islands, across oceans and generations. Together, they form a mosaic of endurance and belonging, reminding us that to live between oceans is to embody strength, stubbornness, and hope. We thank the Nós nos Outros project for allowing us to share these stories with the Azorean Diaspora and the American and Canadian communities.

Translated to English as a community outreach program from the Portuguese Beyond Borders Institute (PBBI) and the Modern and Classical Languages and Literatures Department (MCLL) as part of Bruma Publication and ADMA (Azores-Diaspora Media Alliance) at California State University, Fresno, PBBI thanks Luso Financial for sponsoring NOVIDADES.