AIDA
When I was young , I used to visit my retired nanny , Aida Mercado , back in her home of Puerto Rico . Every night before bed , I would sit with her in the room she and her husband set aside for me in their small house . Next to my bed on the dresser were these little cherub statuettes and a card she gave me with the image of Jesus Christ on it . Even though I ’ m Jewish , I understood that she was teaching me about her beliefs because she wanted me to learn about how she worshipped . She would pray with me and bless me , and then it was time for bed . I ’ d lay in the dark and listen to the coquí frogs calling in choruses of thousands as I fell sleep . Towards the end of 2016 , I got the chance to travel around Europe for the first time . Just as I was ready to hop on a bus from Belgrade to Bucharest , I received a text message telling me my nanny was in the hospital . I booked a flight the next day and flew back to Puerto Rico . I saw my nanny in the ICU that day . She was heavily sedated and had a tube down her throat . Her mouth was agape , and her lips were so dry that they began to crack around the edges and bleed . Every now and then , she would cough , and it seemed like she was choking on the blood filling her lungs . Her fibromyalgia was at end stage , but her husband wasn ’ t ready to give up hope . I held her swollen hand and told her softly that I was there and I was praying for her , but she slept through the visit . I worried that I hadn ’ t made it in time . The second day , she was slightly lucid . She opened her eyes and looked at me , and I saw tears trickle slowly down her face . She couldn ’ t speak , but she knew I was there . That was the last day she was able to open her eyes . After that , we began to pray that she would be allowed to go . We didn ’ t want her to suffer anymore . Since she passed , I haven ’ t been able to shake the image of her with the tubes running into her mouth and nose , or the look of pain on her face . Unfortunately , a lot of times our last images of loved ones end up being the distorted , sick versions of them . With time , that image can fade , allowing us to see them how they truly were . And yet , even in the immediate aftermath of loss , even with the image of Aida laying in the hospital bed in my mind , the pain of seeing her in that state is worth being able to visit her in my memories . Angels may not always appear beautiful at first . They may be the sources of our greatest despair and pain and loss , but what makes them our angels is that they somehow make us better .
_________________ Matthew Hershoff , Editor in Chief