"If tears could build a stairway,
And memories a lane,
I’d walk right up to Heaven
And bring you home again."
— Unknown
Dear Grandma,
Next month it will be ten long years since you’ve been gone. The other day I was thinking what better way to express my feelings than to write an open letter to you. I thought about waiting for next month to write this for you but as hard as it is now to write this, it will be even harder next month. I was pretty young when God decided to take you home but I remember every part leading up to that moment. You were the only grandparent that I really ever known, and what hurt the most about you leaving is I would never know what it was like to grow up with a grandmother like other kids did. You were the first loss I’ve ever dealt with, I never really thought about death before it happened in front of me. I thought someone you love doesn’t just disappear.
Well, I want you to know I would do it all over again if I could.
Talking to you was so hard because of our language barrier. I couldn’t speak Spanish to you so I created ‘baby Spanish’ and you would laugh and nod, knowing very well you didn’t understand a word I was saying. But even without having full conversations I knew how much you loved me, how much you loved all of us. The best part was being able to make you laugh all the time. I had friends that would come around that you made clear you didn’t like and now I know why because those ‘friends’ don’t come around anymore. You knew before anyone else that they were no good.
When you had your first stroke, they decided it was best for you to be put in a nursing home, a nursing home that ended up being my second home. It seems it was every day we were there with you. My mom didn’t want you to ever be alone there even though they scheduled a time for everyone to go. A lot of time my mom, brothers and I would all go but the majority of the time it was me and my mom. So as you would remember me sitting there next to your bed and playing with any toy brought with me that day and my mom would sit there and talk to you. Since you had your stroke I remember it was hard for you to speak but somehow my mom knew what you wanted and needed. Remember when you and I watched Garfield together? You would just laugh and laugh; there was something about that cat that you just loved. I haven’t watched that movie since. My mom would sneak you little goodies for you to snack on even when you weren't supposed to. There was one time I drew a picture of you and me with a bunch of heart balloons and you loved it even though it was poorly drawn. You signaled to put it on your dresser with the stuffed animal I had left for you. You wouldn’t believe how happy I was when you loved them and I knew it wasn’t a fake love for my little gifts it was genuine because you loved me that much. So when you passed, mom let me put the drawing and stuffed animal in your casket with you, so you’ll always have them.
You moved to two more nursing homes before having another stroke. The day before your stroke my mom and I were supposed to go see you. I woke up very tired that day and didn’t feel like going, a decision I will always regret because that was the last day I could have saw you awake. After your stroke, you were put in a coma. A few days later maybe a little longer around two or there in the morning, we got a call that this might be it, so my family and I rushed to the hospital and sat in the room with you. My mom held your hand and I was off to the side with my brothers. I remember thinking you’ll be fine. I don’t think I fully understood that you weren’t going to wake up anymore. I remember my mom saying how one of your biggest fears was that you were going to die alone. Well on December 20, 2007, at around 6 am you passed away with everyone sitting in the room with you. You were not alone you were never alone.
I want you to know how much you are missed.
I wish you could see all the accomplishments your grandkids are making.
Every important event I wish you were here. Maybe you weren't there physically to watch me have my quince or the time I was accepted into my dream college. You won't even be able to be there when I publish my first book but I know that you are watching all of us from up above and I know you're proud. One day I'll see you again, and then we can watch Garfield together.
Love you always,
Your granddaughter.