Keep Going

Let go of what you love

After ending our conversation, I turn to Kristine.
"Speaking of family," she wipes a tear, "I was speaking to Tyler and we both decided it would be good for you to speak to your gran again."

My gran.

Continuing, Kristine adds, "Of course we do want to ask...can you speak Spanish? Like remember to?"

I frown. "Yo espero que sí."
Kristine smiles. "That's good."

Still wondering I ask, "Where is my gran?"

Looking at her phone, the answer I'm given is, "Ever since your grandad...passed away, your gran has been living in Spain. Apparently it was too painful to live in the place where her daughter and husband died."

I nod, but again, there's another question of my mind. "Excuse me for wondering," I say, "but from what I can remember, my brother couldn't speak Spanish. Is that still the case?"

Kristine shakes her head. "After you went into a coma...Tyler started learning Spanish so he could communicate with your gran. It was quite hard telling her you went into a coma after all she had been though."

Again, I'm nodding. María Ramírez has always had things tough. Born the only daughter to a farmer, she was always shunned and never paid attention to in favour of her two older brothers. That way, her battles with autism were never really documented until she got older.
In fact María never went to school, her family could barley afford it and they only bothered to send her siblings to get educated.

One day, after being tasked to bring the cattle in, María met Lucas Hernandez. They always loved each other although it was hard as neither of their parents approved.
Eventually in the early sixties, the duo ran away to America and eloped.

It wasn't until then that my gran was diagnosed and on the pretty severe side of the spectrum.
She never really talked or communicated with anyone barring her husband and has always had great difficulty changing routine.

The doorbell rings and I jump up, quite excited to see my abuela .
The door opens and I see my emotional grandmother, with my brother behind, hand on her shoulder.
"¡Mi bebé" She raises her hands. "¡Te he extrañado mucho!"
We both burst into tears as we share an emotional reunion.

Eventually we're all in the living room. I feel bad for Kristine. She's not gonna really know what's going on.
"Que tan malo fue?" My gran begins and I look down, it's me avoiding eye contact.
"Tuve daño cerebral abuela." I quietly admit and I hear her gasp, making me feel worse.

Her hand grasps mine and she wants to know, "¿Por qué no me has contactado durante el año pasado? ¿Hay algo que estás escondiendo?"

I look away, struggling to face the truth already.
"Abuela..." I hesitate, "nunca quise molestarte. Básicamente tuve problemas con recordar cosas."

Again, another look of shock spreads gran's face.
"¿Desde cuando? ¿Qué cosas?"

Sighing, I explain, "Desde que desperté...del coma. Y me ha costado recordar todo."

There's a much more lengthy pause as my grandma starts to rock back and forth on her chair.
Kristine shoots a worried look to my brother who shrugs. Maybe his vocabulary isn't that deep yet.

Eventually the familiar croaky voice filled with love speaks again.
"¿Te acuerdas de...tu abuelo?"

I'm taken back. "Sí...no todo, pero lo recuerdo."

My gran leans forward with tears in her eyes.
"¿Cuál es tu recuerdo favorito con él?"

I'm bored. Mommy's away. At her job, Papi says. He's reading the news. I like being with Papi and Abuela.
They're so much more relaxed than my parents and they don't yell. Mommy and Daddy are loud all the time.
I even get to talk to Abuela different than everyone else. Papi teaches me different words than I can say to her because she doesn't talk like we do.

I think Abuela is upstairs, sleeping.
I get to watch cartoons. But there can't be any noise, Papi says. So there isn't. And that's boring.

I stomp to the kitchen, seeing Papi cut peppers for lunch. Pouting my lip, I whine, "I'm bored."
Papi laughs. I don't know why, it's not funny.

He says I can play in the garden by myself until he joins me. Again though, I'm bored. There's nothing to do.

Luckily, Papi doesn't take forever as usual and I see him with a...ball? He's also holding a net with two posts.
"OOH CAN I BE LIKE MOMMY?" I jump up and down, excited to play.
Papi laughs. "Of course you can...I'm going to teach you how to play fútbol."
I furrow my brows. "Mommy calls it soccer."

Papi shrugs. "Soccer is what people  here call it. Where I'm from Elanor, we call it 'fútbol'."

He places the ball on the ground and stands in the net. I giggle as Papi is a bit tall so he has to go down to my height.
He tells me to kick the ball so I do, and watch it squirm Papi's legs.
"Nutmeg!" He proudly says.
"Nutmeg?" I'm confused. "I thought that was a spice."

In the end, we got more stuff out and I learned to do more stuff, to be like Mommy.
"Papi?" I ask as I help him gather the equipment to take inside.
He looks up. "Yes?"
I'm a bit stuck on what to say. "Do you think I could be good? Like Mommy?"
Papi crouches down and I'm scared.
"Elanor," he says seriously, "if you want this and work for this, you will become better than mommy. I promise."

I laugh upon recalling this. "De ahí es de donde Matty lo obtiene. ¡Es como su madre!"

My gran freezes. "¿Còmo son?" She enquires, "No he visito a los niños en años."

Guilt overwhelms me. "Ya sabes abuela...han pasado por mucho."

Tyler looks to me then I realise that he probably hasn't told gran the news. Either of them.

"Abuela..." my tone makes my gran sit up, "Tengo algo importante que decrite."

She looks at me in the eye. "¿Qué es?"

I sigh before breaking it to her. "Estoy...teniendo otro hijo."

For a moment, my gran looks over the moon then sees my face. "Sin embargo, hay algo mal. Elanor...por favor dime."

I wipe a few tears. "Devon y yo...nos vamos a divorciar."

My gran grabs onto my arm. "Todo va a estar bien, Elanor. ¿Recuerdas cuando falleciò tu abuelo?"

The final has just finished. We've won the 2019 World Cup, I scored my hundredth goal, things should be fine...but they're not.
I can feel something is wrong. I asked Dawn if I could get excused from getting interviewed and she accepted.

So now I'm in the tunnel, desperate to find out what's wrong. Luckily, I'm able to get a hold of my brother.
"Tyler, is everything fine?"
"We're so proud of you Ellie."
"Tyler!"
"What?"
"I know things aren't ok, what's wrong?"
"Ellie..."
"Please Tyler..."

Basically a week before we came to France, Papi suffered a stroke. And as far as I know, he's been having heart problems ever since.
I even dedicated my goal in the final to the guy who got me into this sport.

"I'm going to pass you to Abuela"
There's a pause and I hear sniffing.
"Abuela! Por favor dime que pasa?"
"Elanor...tu abuelo falleció hace un par de minutos."

That's when the world stopped spinning.

"Elanor? Elanor? ¿Estas bien?"

I look up and wipe a tear with my sleeve.
"Yo espero que sí."

My gran gives me the saddest look I've ever seen from her.
"A veces tienes que dejar ir lo que amas."