There he was in his bright red pickup truck. I couldn't believe that was MY grandpa. He seemed like the strongest, healthiest, and bravest person I knew. Everyone called him “Papa Abuelo '' which in English means Dad Grandpa. It may not seem to make sense in English but in Spanish it made total sense for me and for my family.

He was such a calm person he would always go on walks, read, and play with the family's dogs. I saw him more in the summertime. For some weird reason I always admired when he used to cut watermelon. It may seem weird but he seemed to cut the watermelon so perfectly and he always got the best watermelons. Not only did I admire that but I remember bragging in elementary school about how my grandpa used to be a police officer in Mexico City. In those times Mexico was a very dangerous place. I admired that. He is so important to me because he has/had done so much of this family. He helped my mom buy a house when she was just 24. I feel like I don’t have a lot of memories of him because I was just a kid and didn't spend a lot of time. All I did was play and hangout with my cousins. All I know is that he was one of the best grandpas. He became so important to me. My family would tell me that as much when my mom and her siblings were growing up.

He would come home drunk and didn't spend time with them. I was lucky to not experience that, but he did stop drinking. I actually found out when I had offered him a Corona beer and he told me he stopped drinking. He tried to hangout with us but we are a lot of grandkids. There was a day where I was so mad at him, the day my guinea pig had died he told us “stop crying it's just an animal you'll get over it” It hurt because it was my first pet and I was a 12 year old. It seemed evil at first but then funny. I still miss my guinea pig very much though. RIP Oreo. After finding out my grandpa had cancer we didn't see him as much. He spent a lot of time in the hospital and at my aunt's house.

After a while, starting in mid February, we started to go see him everyday after school. My siblings and I would do our homework and wait for our mom to come home to help with dinner. Sometimes we ate over at my aunt's house. Then after my dad came we ate and left to go see him. I was relieved that my mom and aunt were not fighting so we got to see my cousins but not for a good reason. We would go say “hola papi,como estas? He would mumble, he tried his best to talk.

Everyday he gets weaker and weaker. He couldn't do anything besides lay on his bed and rest. He didn't get enough vitamins a normal person is supposed to receive which caused his weakness. At some point, one of my aunts from Mexico came with some remedies. They were these drops with weird names. They were supposed to be given to him every 4 or 6 hours.

I saw my mom and aunt giving them to him all the time. I could tell by his facial expression that he did not like them. I never knew exactly what the drops were for but they had to be to help him. After seeing my grandpa, I would spend time with my cousins since we hadn't seen each other a lot. It was great to be with them. We would sometimes talk and get in this awkward silence because we all knew the situation.

We tried to be positive about it though. I might've been a little bit too positive. I would dance and laugh sometimes even sing. I would get yelled at frequently or just told to get away. I felt horrible cause maybe I needed to stop but I didn't want him to see us sad. It would make him even more sad if he was to see us like that.

We would leave late at night telling him “que descanses lo vemos manana” and hoped to see him the next day. We did this for over a month and a half. It was stressful at times because sometimes we didn't eat at all. We didn't have our regular family dinner, we just rushed to go see him. He seemed to get worse but we knew God would help him. My family is very big in religion.

We are Catholics, we go to church every Sunday and pray all the time. We are taught that God is always first, and he will help us. When we would go to my aunt's house we always prayed for him. There is this prayer called “El Rosario” meaning “the rosary”. We prayed that all the time and offered it to the “Virgin Maria” , the “Virgin Mary”. Something that always gives me nostalgia is that and the phrase we start it with “ave Maria purisima”. My family and I would sometimes do it in the living room with the door open hoping he could hear us.

And sometimes we would go inside his room and pray there with him. I sometimes go to the point of questioning God about my grandpa. “Why him God?” “Is he going to be okay?” I was also taught that we are to never question God and his actions, but how could I not. I still had hope he was going to be okay again. One day as we didn't the rosary, something crazy happened. We had just finished rosary and one of my aunts was crying like crazy and she looked like she was going to faint.

Everyone was like “Are you okay?” “do you need a tissue?” My other aunt hugged her while my uncle had a bit of holy water on her head. I was so confused as to what had happened. I later asked my mom and told me “ she might've gotten overwhelmed, and the holy spirit might have passed her” It did make sense she was in between the living room and my grandpa's room while people were praying and looked overwhelmed. I don't remember the exact day.

I remember it being a Sunday. My mom had told me “ you need to get your blessing from him”. I was one of his grandchildren who still hadn't gotten his blessing. I waited until nighttime to get his blessing. I went in with my mom and gave him his blessing. My mom asked “you don't want to say anything?”

I didn't know what to say, what was I supposed to say? I felt horrible, I didn't have anything in mind. I felt like I was in denial. I just couldn't believe this really happened. “It's okay if she doesn't want to say anything,” he answered. I finally told him how much I admired him and looked up to him. From the watermelons to red trucks and to him being bragged about in my elementary school.

I tried to tell him without tearing up but I ended up crying my eyes out. My mom exclaimed “ wow, you never told me that” I couldn't tell if he had heard me or even if he was conscious. I ended up hearing a “mhm” from him. I was satisfied with that and glad he knew how much I looked up to him. On his last few days he was so weak he couldn't move. When we would leave at night I was the one now giving him my blessing.

On march 19th, my family and I slept over at my aunt's house because my own grandpa thought he wanted to make it the next day. My other aunt with her three kids stayed and so did my other aunt. I slept in my cousins room, on the top of the bunk bed. I really couldn't believe what was happening. My family having a “sleepover after months of no communication”, “my grandpa saying he might not make it” How could I go to sleep with all this happening.

Everyone seemed to be asleep. It was already around 3 in the morning. I didn't know what to do. I tried to listen to a new album by The weekend which is my favorite artist but I couldn't. I didn't know if it was better to stay there or be with my grandpa. I decided to go with him. I went to his bedroom and found my mom there sitting by him and my dad sleeping on the floor. My mom asked me “you still haven't fallen asleep” I could tell she had been crying a lot by her puffy eyes, and her red face.

I responded saying “yeah” I looked at my grandpa and he seemed to be okay.

“Lay on the floor” my mom insisted, “wait did you close the door upstairs” my mom answered

“Oh no, let me go close it and get a pillow” I forgot to close the door, I wasn't sure if I was gonna go back. I went back to the room and closed the door. I didn't want to go to sleep so I sat there with my mom looking at my grandpa in his last moments. The craziest thing happened in that time period. My mom would try to give him water but he had his eyes closed and knew when my mom would give him water. Not only that but he would try to get up and walk around.

He was too weak now, he couldn't walk by himself and yet somehow he wanted to be walking. We didn't let him, we tried to tell him to lay. He listened , since it was three in the morning my mom decided to do the rosary. I was already laying on the floor so I did it with her. I sometimes felt like I was falling asleep but I knew I had to continue for my grandpa. That's when my other aunt came in and prayed with us.

Even though I tried to finish the rosary I couldn't. I was falling asleep. My mom told me to go to sleep and so I did. I didn't say anything I never said bye to my grandpa. On March 20th at 4:29 am my grandpa had passed away. I woke up to my aunt blasting through the room telling us to wake up because grandpa died.

I don't even know what to think. All I could think about was how I could've stayed there with him for this last breath. I hurried and put on my sweater and went downstairs. My grandpa's brother was there, so was my cousins, and my family. We had to go one by one because there were too many people. I saw my mom crying outside the room, she looked horrible, she hadn't slept at all. I walked into the room with people in there.

There he was laying on his bed, with his hand together holding a cross. How could this be happening? We were all crying. We each went up to give him a kiss and say goodbye. I don't know what to do or say so I went to sit on the couch and process everything that was happening. After a few people had come the people from the morgue came. My cousins and I weren't allowed to be there so we headed to the room. After a while I left home to refresh and went back to pray and spend time with more family.

The next day we returned and found out we wouldn't be able to have a funeral and the wake was the last time we would be able to see him. Since the corona virus was getting worse and we were in quarantine a lot of people couldn't go. My mom told us we wouldn't be able to go since other people would need to go. I was disappointed how come we couldn't go after being there for i'm in his worst. So we had to stay with our cousins. _It was already late around six or seven in the night and they and my mom and dad had just come back. My other aunt was just going to go when she asked if we wanted to come and my siblings and I said yes. Since a lot of people could and couldn't go, people had to go at certain times and only a certain amount of people.

We didn't have any black on since we were not aware we were going to go. So we found some jackets from my cousin's closet and put them on. We left and ended up at a funeral house. It seemed very elegant and fancy. It was also a catholic funeral house which was very interesting. There was some family there just leaving and we entered.

There he was laying in the casket. He looked peaceful, I wouldn't believe it. I looked to the side and there was a slideshow playing of pictures of him. I was in a lot of them since most of them were from the previous years. It made me cry a lot, there was this one picture I wasn't in where all of my cousins were in. I was gone on an aspire high trip.

All I thought was how could I go to the stupid college trip when I knew my grandpa was okay. I felt so guilty. We ended up doing the rosary, but I couldn't speak. I just kept thinking about him and how this was really happening. He was the first person I had lost. I had previously lost one of my cousins to cancer too but I was just a little girl didn't know.

After we each went one by one to talk to him. I was maybe one of the last ones to go up. I remember saying to him “I hope you're in heaven, thank you for being the best grandpa. I wish I could have spent more time with you.” I had said more but those are the things I needed to say. We took our last pictures with him. I don't know what to do so I looked at him in every photo that was taken. We were the ones to see him as the people from the morgue put him away and closed his casket.

Till this day we still pray for him, and always think about him. We recently went for the first time to see him at the cemetery. His tombstone still hasn't been made due to the corona virus. Even though this might have happened it showed me something. Always try to be with your family. Spend more time with them. Enjoy those moments because you'll never know how long it'll last. You never know when they might leave. And it's mostly the ones you never expect. These moments are precious, you'll never get the time back so enjoy it now with your family and loved ones. And during this pandemic it's the best time to be doing it and building memories.