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Remembering La Bendicion

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Tradiciones.
It’s something that goes hand-in-hand with being Mexican — or Latino, for that matter.
I’m sure we can all name at least three that we practice. And chances are, we probably are not consciously aware that we are doing them.
I don’t think I’d be too far off base if I said La Bendicion is the most practiced among us.
If you have an abuela or papá, you never leave the house without getting your blessing.
A touching scene occurs every morning as commuters gather on the platform to wait for the BART train. It quietly unfolds and goes unnoticed by most. But for me, it’s a moment that brings back memories buried deep in my mind.
A mother and son arrive to board their respective trains.
Before he heads off to catch his train that will take him to school, the teen who appears to be about 14, stops in front of his mama and waits.
Her hand touches his forehead where she begins the sign of the Cross. She utters a few words intended for only mother and son.
And as it quickly as it began, it’s over.
La Bendicion.
As a child, each night before I headed off to bed, I’d stop in front of the recliner where my Papa Nato sat. I’d wait patiently as he gave me his bendicion.
I couldn’t tell you when I stopped this nightly ritual. Probably around the time I headed into those horrid teen years.
But it was only later I learned that, although I had stopped this ritual, Papa Nato continued giving me his blessing. Before heading off to bed himself, he’d stop at the door of my bedroom and give his bendicion.
I woke one night to see his silhouetted figure in the doorway with his hand moving in that familiar ritual.
I never mentioned it to him, but I’m sure he knew that I had found out about his nightly routine.
Having his blessing always made me feel safe. As if he was always with me.
As we grow older, we have a tendency to forget those tradiciones, which are undeniably a huge part of our lives. And sometimes it is only when we become adults do we realize the importance of these tradiciones.
Granted, some people may not understand our family nor our cultural tradiciones, but that shouldn’t stop us from practicing them. It’s part of understanding one another better.
La Bendicion.
As I grow older, it becomes more and more a part of my life. Before every trip, I perform my own “self-blessing.” And when I know a good friend is about to begin a new work assignment or new semester, I send him my bendicion via text message. I suppose you can say it’s tradicion a la the electronic age.
It’s been 20 years since Papa Nato died. There are times when I wish he were still here to give his bendicion. But even though he is not here physically, I know he still gives me his blessing.
Someday I hope to pass on this tradicion to my own children, while at the same time explaining the special place it holds in my heart.
— Vicki Adame is a former Bakersfield resident and Bakersfield Californian reporter. She now lives in San Francisco where she works in public relations.