Our trip to Spain was everything we had hoped for and more. Our days were full of seeing family, friends, eating and drinking, sightseeing, walking, talking and laughing until we cried.

We started off in Barcelona and had three whirlwind days of seeing the incredible imprint that Gaudi made on his beloved city. Barcelona is beautiful and charming and not to be missed if you’re ever in Spain.

Then we made an eleven hour journey from Barcelona to Aranda de Duero, a small town where our Abuela is from and we still have lots of family.

Our cousins met with us with hugs and tears and treated us like royalty. We joked about having a family reunion some time in the future and my cousin Caremcita told me there would be over 100 people. 100 people sharing blood and a lifetime of love and memories. The gift of being Spanish has a trickle effect I never even knew about.

The next day we literally met some long lost cousins. Why we hadn’t met before is a long story, but not relevant to how incredibly welcoming and gracious they were with us. Turns out this long lost cousin owns the nicest bar in town and treated us to hours of free amazing wine. We got to meet his wife and 9 month old baby and everyone was so loving and made us feel at home. 

The night ended with them insisting they bring us to their bodega for more wine and my brother- in-law singing songs about Aranda de Duero with our 80 year old uncles.

The reality is that that generation, all of my mom’s first cousins and their spouses probably don’t have much time left.  They were so joyous sharing that day and those incredible moments with us.

You literally cannot put a price tag on those moments, ones we will very likely never get the opportunity to live again.

Every tear, every smile, every moment of laughter we shared with our cousins embodied our mama and how much she meant to so many people. She is long gone, but this trip reinforced just how far reaching her impact was on the lives she touched. My cousin, Pilar, who adored my mom, gave me the highest of all compliments. During our meal together she told me how my mom was so full of life and love…and how much I was like her. 

Our cousin drew us a family tree of all the Marina relatives and it was amazing to see it all there on paper. A simple tree with simple names like Maria and Carmen and some not so simple names, like Eugenia and Gregoria. 

I was amazed to see just how many limbs are on our family tree. Our Abuela being one of 9 siblings, the branches reach out far and long. Some relatives I have never even met, but we are connected by family, by blood, by love. 

In the Spanish culture, when a woman gets married she doesn’t drop her name. I think that makes so much more sense. Just because someone gets married, doesn’t mean they should lose who they were. I know I never want to lose who I was or where I came from. I may not be changing my signature anytime soon, but in my heart I will always be a Sanchez, an Esteban, a Marina.

The journey that my mom took from Spain to the USA sixty something years ago was not in vain. She met my dad, married him, had three gringo kids and raised them in the USA. But here we are six decades later and where we feel the most at home, is in Spain. That’s the thing that struck me most about our family tree. Not time, nor location, nor circumstances can get in the way of where we are supposed to be. 

I probably complained a little too much that day about our long journey, but now having been there for those priceless moments, I’d do it again and again and again just to see the pure joy in our cousin’s eyes and then the tears as we said our goodbyes.

I’m so grateful how time stands still whenever we go back to Aranda de Duero and can’t wait for our next trip. Hasta la próxima vez españa, siempre estarás en mi corazón.