Pieces of Me.

Let go.

05/12/2018

I already knew what was coming when my mom called my dad. Soon I was being taken to my grandparents house to visit my grandpa.

As I was walking through the entrance and making my way up to the stairs, my mind was filled with memories of my childhood.
Decorating the Christmas tree, grocery shopping. The storybooks and snacks. The afternoons that my cousin and I spent there making "art" projects, the naps. Just... everything.

I stayed a few long seconds outside their bedroom door, preparing myself for what was coming and swallowing my tears as hard as I could.

"Wanna come see papa?" I hear my grandma's quiet voice behind me and turn around, scanning her face expression. This is harder for her than it is for all of us.

I took a deep, long breath and came in. There he was sleeping with his lips parted, breathing slightly loud. I try to study his features to see if there was any trace of pain or discomfort but I saw nothing. Not even peace or tiredness, he is just... Sleeping.

Me, being the paranoid girl I am, had to check to see if he really was breathing. I could have imagined it since breathing is an acquired information to the brain, but of course I didn't and he was breathing.

I pass my hand through his blanket covered chest slowly and went back to my dad's side, swallowing my tears with the tea my dad rushed to give me as soon as he learnt I had fever again.

When you have cancer you can't be around people who are sick so you don't share bacteria's and microbes. The one who has cancer can get worse or grow weaker.
But now it won't make a difference because my grandpa is dying, and this may be the last time I'll see him.

Suddenly he wakes up and looks around the room, his eyes widening as soon as he spotted my father.
He has an inexplainable debt towards my father. Always telling me to send him hugs and saying that he will never forget the help he was. They shared greeting and so did I. His cold, thin fingers met mine and I moved my eyes from our hands to meet his, joy evident in them.

I sat down in the chair on the side of their bed as my grandmother went to grab some soup, strangely my grandpa was hungry.
He also said he was thirsty so my mom and dad were trying to help him up. Trying.
It was not an easy task to lift a human being, let alone a sick one, so I sat there, dumbfounded, as I watched the two of them struggle to lift him up.

I haven't seen my parents this close in almost seven years. Even though my dad technically has nothing to do with my grandparents anymore he is still here, where my mother's boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

My mother had tears in her eyes, probably from fear of hurting her dad or the pain of seeing him in this state.

The man that once carried the whole family on his back is now being lifted by them. After all the help he gave to every single one of us over the past years it's the least we can do.

My grandma came back with the soup and settled herself on the small bench, on the other side of the bed.

"What a beauty!" My granddad exclaims when he tastes the soup his wife is giving.

My mind starts to wonder to the time when he had his surgery. We obviously couldn't be there all hours but even though she physically couldn't, she was up for it.
I remember one day we went to visit papa in the hospital.
I don't know if he was sleeping or not but as soon he heard his name being called by nana, even with his eyes closed, his hand met hers almost magically. It was a small gesture but it said more than enough. Call it whatever you want. To me, that's love.

After my grandpa ate his soup he strangely asked for cake but no one questioned. We all know the meaning, no need to say it out loud. Let him enjoy the cake.

"Honey, you ate so good! Gimme a kiss," my grandma asked leaning in so they could share a sweet peck.

They've been married for 56 long years. Dating a few before that. I can't help but think... my grandma will go right after.

"You're grandmother is strong." My mother assured me one day that I voiced my thoughts about the future.

I know, God knows I know.
But it is not about strength, it's about love. And she loves him more than life itself.

My granddad fell asleep soon after eating, only waking up to say goodbye.

Goodbye.
This could be our last goodbye.

My father goes first, giving him a handshake and encouraging words, and then I go after him.

I actually don't remember anything I said. I was rushing through the words trying not to cry in front of them so I just did it quickly and got out of the room.

When I was saying goodbye to my mom something occurred to me.
I didn't say I love you.

I mean, I don't remember but what if I didn't?

With the impulse of the new information I ran to the room again.

"Papa, mom checked yesterday and you didn't win the lottery," I started stupidly "I just wanted to tell you that. See you tomorrow, I love you both,"

My papa grabbed my hand tightly, not wanting to let go.
When our eyes met I understood what he wanted to say but was too tired to.
Once again a small gesture says more than enough.

See you tomorrow.

I still don't know why I chose those words. Part of me probably isn't ready to let him go. A part of me that doesn't believe that this is it, that is scared of a world without him.

I just...
I don't want to let go.