Meet Carmen Anaya-Acevedo, one of the countless women who raised her children by herself. Three of them including my dear wife Frances. Putting food on the table. Buying them clothes. Giving them shelter. Making sure they get an education. It wasn’t easy, but she pulled it off. Carmen passed away on Thursday evening.
What does all of this have to do with music? Carmen wasn’t some famous music artist, but to me she was a true rock star. She was like a second mother; in fact, I used to call her “mami.” Carmen was an integral part of my family. She lived with us for many years until we could no longer safely care for her. For the past six years, she was in a nursing home. It was one of the hardest decisions we needed to make.
In April this year, Carmen’s already compromised health unfortunately took a turn to the worse. She had a series of setbacks that required various hospitalizations. While it appeared her condition had stabilized as of last Wednesday and her treating physician told us she was an incredibly strong lady, given what she had gone through, things suddenly deteriorated on Thursday afternoon. Within less than an hour, she was gone.
Her heart gave up. Or perhaps she was too tired to keep fighting and decided to check out. If it was the latter, I couldn’t blame her. She had been through so much. Carmen was a woman of faith and believed death eventually will lead to something good. I really hope she’s right about that.
Carmen was a happy person who liked to talk a lot and socialize with other folks. She also loved music and dancing. While raising her children in Puerto Rico, she listened to lots of ’80s music. My wife told me one of her favorite tunes from that era was Africa by Toto. Every time that song was playing on the radio, it would make her happy. Carmen may be gone, but she’ll always be with me in my heart. This is for you!