Papi Guillo

I was talking with my grandpa (lovingly called Papi Guillo) back in April.  

He asked me to move home and so I did as soon as I could.  Which was September 1st.

Since I did not have a job I was able to spend time with him.  Take him to the clinic, where he received treatment for his cancer.  A disease that doctors said would kill him five months later.  

Yet here we were four years later, my grandpa sitting in his chair, receiving treatment.

We talked about his brothers and sisters.  How his mom would make fresh cheese.  How she would line up the pots and pans just so on the table.  Waiting for him to finish milking the cows and bring in the milk.  My grandpa went on to say that she never wasted anything,  She used every last bit of the milk and made something with it.

We talked about all his children and how he enjoyed how much his family was growing.

How he loved every single person that made up his family.

We finished that treatment and went to McDonalds where we ate and talked about people that come in and out of our lives.  He sipped his Dr. Pepper and I my Barq's Rootbeer.

He told me many things that day that I will always remember.

1. Life is not about doing something important, it is important that we do something.

2. We shouldn't live life for money.  Money can be stolen, lost, taken, misplaced and misused,  But memories, he said, can never be taken, misplaced or lost.  He finished by saying when we die we can't take our money, but we can take our memories.

On September 24, My grandpa left.  24 days after I got home.  

I have to say that he didn't lose a battle to cancer.  Cancer told him five months and he said no four years. 

I miss my grandpa.  I miss the way he would hold my hand while sitting on his bed.  How he ran his fingers over mine as if he was memorizing every line and cease.  And for those few wonderful moments, I felt as if I was the most important thing in the world to him.  That I was the reason why his heart would beat. 

As I sat back and listened to stories about him, I realized, he made everyone feel this way.  Around him people felt special, loved, important and cherished.

And I hope that he knew he was special, loved, important and cherished.  It was proved the day of his wake when hundreds of people lined up to say a final goodbye.  When the priest said, "He was a good man."  When my uncle said, Men like him... there aren't many."  

I watched as they lowered him into the ground.  Next to the love of his life. Next to the one that he has had to live nine years without.

I cried and cried for many days.  I know that there will be days when the tears come again.  When the sadness will overwhelm me.

But today I find joy in the fact that death can't take my memories.  I find joy in knowing that I will see him again.  He went on a journey that we all take.  He just went ahead of us.

I miss you Papi Guillo.

I miss you everyday.

I can look back now and think of special times that I will forever take with me.