Last Words

Is Death more torturous than life?

My little cousin passed away a week ago. One week since her grace blessed this earth with her presence. I was asked to write her obituary, the funeral has come and gone since. I turned something in her sister described as "perfect", but I still cant find the right words. The words that would hold her entire self within them. Words that weigh as much as she did, because Mabel, Mabel was heavy. Not in size but in love, she still swims in the depths of my heart, and I hope she stays there forever. I hope that if my mind one day wanders away, her name will still be a very real reality. I pray that I never forget her laugh, her voice, her smile, her sass, her...just all of her.

How do you paraphrase a life? No matter how short, will there ever be enough words that encompasses all that someone was? What they still are to those of us left behind. I hope Mabel knew how much I admired her, how much I wanted to be like her in some aspects. Her courage, her ingenuity, her willingness to be no less than all that she was...

I wrote the above draft on October 10, 2021, the day after the wake...On October 3, 2021, my younger cousin, Mabel, died in a car accident.

It’s a wonder, the way the worst things that happen to us, sometimes don’t happen to us at all. They happen around us and all you can you is stand in the eye of the storm and stare, in wonder. I received what I consider to be the greatest compliment, and it was the result of the worst thing to happen to me, around me, and in spite of me in all of my years. I can usually write about anything but it has taken me so much time to be able to write that sentence, so much time to allow myself to think it. This makes it real; I should explain.

My family is originally from the Dominican Republic. There are so many members in this family that, for a long time, I didn’t know that you could only have one aunt/uncle/cousin. I have approximately 45 first cousins, 30 second cousins and countless others on just my father's side of the family. Most of us grew up together in my grandmother’s Manhattan apartment, played in her hallway, got in trouble on her block. There’s a small group – and by small, I mean about 12 of us – in the same age range that grew closer together the older we got, there may only be 2-3 years between any of us but there was a hierarchy established immediately. There were the older cousins; the branch I was a part of, the younger cousins; of which Mabel was a part of, straddling the line of the next group, the babies, and lastly, the adults (the adults are and always will be my aunts and uncles). As you can imagine, my cousins and I were raised more like siblings, the bond between us having been forged with fire and iron, thickened by blood and reinforced with time. Losing Mabel wasn’t something any of us could have imagined, we were supposed to grow old together, have families of our own and raise the kids together. We are off kilter, unbalanced, fumbling, spiraling and out of control without her. How do you cope with such loss? If I haven't figured it out then neither has her only sister.

Jessica and Mabel were inseparable, their names were so synonymous that you couldn’t say one without the other, and if you said one, both were implied. My heart cried out in panic, not only for myself but for the emptiness I know has been left behind in Jess. Maybe it’s selfish, but I’ve always thought of myself as the ‘fix-it’ cousin in our group. The one people come to for advice, solutions, even muscle from time to time. But this? There’s absolutely nothing I can say or do to fix this, nothing I can write to balm the pain of this. Mabel was the life in our group, she was a light, she cannot be summed up in mere words, there is – was, too much of her. So, when Jess asked me to write her obituary, I faltered. She apologized, told me I was the best writer she knew, she trusted me. And while my heart swelled at the recognition, beamed at the fact that she even noticed any of my compositions, I paused. How could I write Mabel? Where would I even start? Having no idea, I dove in. I tried to paint the best picture of her knowing I could no longer capture her essence. And in the end, when all was said, done and printed, my cousin Ashley messages me and says, “God used you with those words.”

Now, I don’t much believe in God; that’s a long story I’m not quite ready to tell. However, I have never received a greater acknowledgment. Feeling that somehow, the universe was acknowledging me too. That, maybe somehow Mabel left me just enough of herself to give back to those of us that miss her, and those of you who never had the immense pleasure of meeting her.

Though, I don’t believe my words will ever be enough, because in all honesty, all we ever hope is that something we do ends up being enough to touch the soul of the Universe, so that it may deeem us worthy of sending them back to us. That’s part of the reason I’d like to share Mabel with you. She was meant to be known, she was our baby and our star, this may only be pieces of her but like all great things she was bigger than us all.

'Mabel Cerrate-Valdez, born December 28, 1996 in New York, NY, died October 3, 2021 in Camden, NJ. She was 24 years old and lived in Newark, NJ at the time of her death. Mabel graduated from St. Peter’s University in 2019 with a degree in Business Management and was currently working for a Section 8 housing office. She was a dedicated individual who was on her way to accomplishing many of her goals. Her favorite color was pink, and she adored pandas. She was cute and cuddly on the surface but underneath it lived one of the most valiant and kind souls to have ever graced this earth.

Mabel was a beautiful soul; her life was full of an abundance of love from everyone who had the pleasure of meeting her. She adored fashion and found every occasion to dress up and show off how beautiful she was; and Mabel knew she was beautiful. She radiated confidence as soon as she glided gracefully into a room. You’d never know it because of how sweet she was, because of how kind her smile was. Mabel was often the first face to greet you at a gathering, she’d fix you a drink before she even asked you your name. If you were there, you were family.

Mabel leaves behind a very big family. She was extremely close with both her mother and father, at times they seemed inseparable. Modeling in pictures with her mother, telling jokes and stories with her father, the love between them was evident and precious. Mabel inherited all of Luisa’s spirit, her charm and allure. Their joy was contagious and even more so when mother and daughter were both present. Mabel was also daddy’s little girl, you could see it in Ramon’s face every time he looked at his daughter, could see it in the mischievous look that would cross Mabel’s face when she’d just thought of something. But there was no greater relationship to witness in their home than that of two sisters.

Mabel often referred to her older sister Jessica as her best friend, they were so close it was almost as if they were twins. Jessica remembers calling Mabel, “Nony”, a pet name she gave her as kids. Jessica could call her anything and Mabel would always come running. One day she tried, she called out a random name and it was just as she thought, Mabel replied. Jessica questioned Mabel’s sanity and Mabel laughed and said, ‘I knew you meant me’. It was those types of relationships Mabel inspired within her family.

The bond she shared with many of her cousins is something to envy. Having been an esteemed member and co-founder of the prestigious Association Montro, Inc., a group created for and by her cousins where they could share laughs, love and time together; time that no one imagined would be cut so short. Whether it was making short films for the prehistoric YouTube era, playing monopoly and eating Burger King on a Saturday night, sleepovers, birthday parties, it didn’t matter; Mabel was always there and she made a point of letting her cousins know by announcing herself, ‘I’m hereeee’. The best part about her arrival would be the kids who’d run into her waiting arms. Baby cousins, adopted nieces and nephews, she loved them all as much as they loved her. She was a caretaker who always complained but happily did the work. ‘This ain’t my child’ she’d say as she’d bounce one of the babies on her hip, or while she brushed another’s hair. But they were hers and she was theirs, and there was always adoration kissing those small faces when they saw her.

The Family grieves the loss of her light, her laughter, her jokes, her sarcasm, her fearlessness, all of her. As a kid, and even as an adult, you could always find her munching on candy, often with a black bodega bag hanging off her wrist with more sour gummy worms for later. Mabel wasn’t just the life of the party, she was the party, she brought the sun with her everywhere she went, just so she had an excuse to wear her sunglasses. She was dramatic and loud and took up space with her boldness. Mabel was unique, there isn’t and will never be anyone truly like her, and she preferred it that way. She was coming into her own as a woman and was enjoying her journey to independence. Mabel was ready to embrace the future she’d always desired. Everyone who knew her said the same, she was passionate and sometimes impulsive, but she listened. She cared about the advice others had to give her and she tried her best to heed it. Mabel was one of the best people you could have on your team, not because she was amazing, and she was, but because she truly listened, she cared and she was always there.

Mabel was a protector, a problem solver, the muscle and the mouth, there was nothing and no one she was afraid to deal with. An organizer and facilitator, full of wonder and the desire to spend what time she had with her loved ones. She loved to dance and sing loudly and offkey, most of all Mabel loved to be free. From shots of orange soda, to shots of fireball, to champagne toasts and showers, Mabel was the epicenter of it all, always willing to keep the fun alive, to keep her family’ spirits fed with quality time. Because that’s all she ever wanted, time with her loved ones. We hope that the time she spent here on earth was enough for her to know how loved she was, how loved she will always be. As long as she is remembered, her spirit will never truly disappear. Mabel was a being of light in life, a show of stars that rained over all who were lucky enough to be near her. And she still shines, the only difference is that now, we are illuminated by her presence from within. These feelings of grief, while heavy, won’t last forever, but you May? You are eternal, and we are lucky to have known you as long as we did. May God guide you home.

Mabel is succeeded by her parents, Ramon and Luisa Cerrate, her sister Jessica Cerrate and her Grandmother Rosalia Valdez, as well as her many loving aunts, uncles and cousins.'