About three weeks ago, my paternal grandma almost had a heart attack. Fortunately, she was taken to the hospital in time, but she fell sick afterward.
On my dad’s side of the family, we have a group chat with everyone: my cousins, tíos, nieces and nephews. I get tons of messages from them, but I usually ignore them since it is just my tías wishing everyone a happy day with their Tweety Bird pictures. The day my grandma fell sick, I did the same.
My mom called me and explained what happened to my grandma; she sounded worried. I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t think of anything. My mind went blank for a few seconds.
My mom said that I should not worry about it. So, I did that. I pretended I didn’t hear anything. I came back to whom I was talking with and I rejoined the conversation like nothing had happened. I didn’t really feel anything that day, just weird and a little empty. Later, I started getting really worried.
I realized that what happened to my grandma actually made me really scared. It made me think that we could all be gone in just a second. I cried a lot the next Thursday after the news of my grandma. She was getting better, but I felt overwhelmed. I remembered when my grandpa passed away, and I just could not stop crying.
I am much closer with my maternal grandparents. Unlike my other grandma, they live in Reynosa, Tamaulipas, Mexico, so I see them once or twice a week. They get worried about me driving, so I try to call them every day to let them know that I am OK.
During the summer, I like to stay with them. There is really nothing to do besides chores. There’s no air-conditioning in the house, and I don’t go out or anything, but I have fun listening to their stories. On summer nights, we go to the rooftop of the house and we sit down to get some air and see the stars. I love staying with them. If I could live with them, I would.
My grandparents have gone through a lot, yet they always make sure to make me happy. If I say that the guava that I ate at their house was really good, my grandpa is going to have 50 guavas ready for me the next time I visit. It’s really funny.
My grandpa told me once that we all have a thread attached to our pinky finger and that when it’s time, the thread snaps. That’s the end. Some people will have a long thread and others a really short one. It all depends. But when it’s time, it’s time. I understand that really well, but I refuse to accept it. I don’t want to know about it. I’ll pretend that I didn’t hear that one story. From the bottom of my heart, I really wish they could stay with me forever, but I know that cannot be.
