Page 38 - Senior Link Magazine Spring 2022 - Online Magazine

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Cecilia Quezada
Overwhelming Strength
by Dianna Soto
he displays a vitality that
does not match her age,
Senergetic as a child but eyes
that reveal years of wisdom. She
helped raise me and instilled
in me a set of morals I still hold
close to my heart. I admire her for
everything that she is: a loving
grandmother, devoted Catholic,
and intelligent woman. However,
more than anything, I admire
her strength. Who I am today
and who I will become stems not
only from my parents but also
from my grandmother, Cecilia
Quezada.
My grandmother was born
February 3, 1961, in Ruiz
Corrinez, Sinaloa, Mexico, the
youngest of ten children. She
met my grandfather as a young
adult, and they married when
she was in her early twenties.
Soon after, she was pregnant
with my mother. Together, my
grandparents immigrated to the
United States to create a better
life for their child, one better
than they had known. It takes
an insurmountable amount of
courage to leave home to live in
an alien country not knowing
a word of the language, yet
they were able to brave such a
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challenge out of love for their
child.
My mother had me at age
nineteen. She continued with her
education even after my birth;
as a result, my grandmother
spent many mornings and
afternoons looking after me
while my mother was in class,
and my dad was at work. She
has played an important role in
my life, so much so that my very
first memory is of her, swaddled
with warmth that offers more
feeling than substance. I was
small enough for her to hold me
comfortably in her arms. She
held me while singing a nursery
rhyme in her native tongue,
Spanish. I cannot remember the
day, my age, nor what her face
looked like at the time, but I do
remember the
warmth of her
embrace and the
childlike glee I felt
at that moment. I
treasure a plethora
of happy memories
of her and hope to
create many more.
I’ve always known
my grandmother
to be a religious woman, devoted
in her faith, but I know that has
not always been true. It wasn’t
until after all her children left
her house to start their own
lives that she really began her
religious journey. Maybe she was
bored staying at home because
she became more involved with
the church, joining a prayer
group, reading and bookmarking
her favorite Bible verses, and
attending rosaries. Church
became a joy rather than a chore.
Because she helped raise me, she
passed her love for her religion
on to me.
Had it not
been for my
grandmother,
I would not
feel the same
love for my
religion as I
do now.
Not only is
she a devoted
Catholic,