dear great grandpa
November 7th. 2023
My great grandpa Eloy passed away at 96 years old.
I remember when I was a kid and I'd visit his cozy apartment that he and my great grandma Dora shared in Grand Prairie. The concrete sidewalk was always rained on and damp. The short steps that led to their home had grass and weeds growing in the cracks. They lived on a hill, and the greenery there just loved to grow. Really anything around my grandma could grow and thrive relentlessly. Including my family.
We’d eat pan dulce, and drink Cokes at a round wooden table that had a pattern carved into it, and my crumbs would always get stuck in the crevices. A big, antique wooden & glass cabinet sat still behind us, filled with grandma’s knick-knacks and her favorite photos of her grandkids. She always kept us kids fed. Great grandpa would sit on the couch adjacent to the table and watch tv, or read a newspaper with a cup of café and plate of pan always at his disposal. When we got full, and we always did, we’d sit on the floor around the TV, and play with the toys we brought from Sofie’s house. We’d read books, and listen to great grandma and grandpa tell us stories about our families lives before we were born. Sometimes we would need our Tia Nora to translate, but there was nowhere else I had felt warmer.
We had always made it a point to visit them when my family lived in Arlington, but since moving to Austin, we only really got to see family from GP on holidays or birthdays. I moved around DFW alot growing up, but to this day I'll always tell you I'm from Grand Prairie. GP is a home away from home.
Grandpa didn't always come to Austin for the holidays, but great grandma did. She came for birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, you name it. Every now and then she’d manage to get Grandpa to come with her, and we made sure he had a good time. He loved his family, even though his mobility was becoming less and less, he saw us more often when he could. He was prone to illness and missteps that would lead to broken bones, and hospital visits. Even then he always managed to bounce back. Looking back at it, I can't tell if it was just his stubbornness, or if he was healing as fast as he did for his family's sake. Knowing him, probably the latter. He was kind that way.
I knew grandpa was getting older and weaker, and when I heard he was in the hospital, a pit grew in my stomach. It has to be harder to bounce back the older you get. Naturally, I guess.
My mom called me when he passed. I could hear her voice cracking, and my heart dropped. I had just showered, and was about to prepare dinner when she called. She told me that she loved me and asked if I was okay. I didn't know. I wasn't even beginning to process what she said. I started dissociating ever since that call. I told her I regret not seeing him in the hospital, and she told me that maybe it was for the best, as she didnt want me to see him in that condition, and remember him that way. But I felt like I still should’ve. If not for me, then for my family who was right next to him while he was going through it. For my family who had to live it.
I don't think that it really hit anyone until the funeral. It was a chance to be surrounded by each other, and just feel it all. I walked in holding hands with my mom, and momentarily we hesitated going in, but once we did, I saw Grandpa there, in the center of the room, and all the family I hadn't seen in weeks. In that moment, my brain was back in my skull and I could feel again. I could allow myself to feel this.
I had never had anyone close to me die before. I was a stranger to it even. I had always grown up hearing of extended family passing away and not knowing how to feel. How are you supposed to feel? Is there a right and wrong way to grieve? Seeing my grandpa lie there, peacefully, sent a wave of relief over me, and blanketed my grief. Finally, he's no longer in pain.
The service was beautiful, even in the state we were all in. My family held each other through the tears. My great grandma was hunched over his casket, crying for him and running her fingers through his hair. I have never seen her cry so hard. I have never seen a lot of my family cry until this day. She held my arm and cried to me in broken English, “We won't see grandpa anymore.” She turned to me as we looked at Grandpa, in his final resting place, and we cried together. We all did.
Querido bisabuelo, (dear great grandpa)
Dondequiera que esta vida te haya aterrizado, por favor recuerda cuánto te ama y extraña tu familia. Apreciamos tu vida, y te atesoraremos después de la muerte. Nos aseguraremos de celebrar su vida todos los días, y transmitir su legado a sus bisnietos y bisnietos. Ellos sabrán tu nombre, y conocerán tu amor de la manera en que tuvimos tanta suerte. Te amo.
Zoe
