I Miss You, Grandma
By Iris Esteban, 16, Wisconsin
I miss you Grandma,
I know I’m not supposed to start a letter like that, but I’m also not supposed to write to someone who is no longer with us. You know that I don’t believe in second lives, resurrection, heaven or hell, but right now I hope there is something, and that wherever you are, you can read this. If I’m completely honest I don’t know what I’m going to write, or why I’m doing it, but somehow it feels like it’s the right thing to do, even if I don’t know if you will be able to read it.
I still remember the feeling of being in your arms, the way everything was suddenly bright yellow. The way birds started singing a catchy song. The smell of the amazing cakes you made, the croquettes in christmas, and the hot chocolate in winter. The way you hugged me like it was the last time; but right now those memories don’t feel like enough, I wish I could have at least one more.
I still remember playing cards with you. In my head winning is purple, my favorite color, and I remember how you let me win so that I could see it. The way you taught me new games, how listening to you sounded like my favorite song. The way you made me laugh like it was the last time, but right now it’s hard to do it. I wish you could make me laugh at least one more time.
I still remember baking desserts with you, the way making San Blass cakes made everything orange. How making croquettes made me hear a choir of angels singing. The way you prepared everything like it was the last time; but right now I wish I could have one last meal made by you, because everything else tastes bad now.
I still remember the afternoons in your house, the way you made every color brighter, so even black looked happy. The way time ran away with you, but it was never enough. The way our time together had the best soundtrack ever. The way you were with me like it was the last time; but right now I wish I had one last afternoon with you, because doing anything else feels wrong.
Tell me Grandma, how am I supposed to live without all those things? How am I supposed to live, if everything is gray now, if the birds have stopped singing and I can’t hear my favorite song anymore? I can still smell the desserts you made when I’m in your kitchen, but it’s mixed with a deadly smell now, now it hurts.
Despite all of that I still treasure all our memories, our time together. Does that make me a masochist? I like remembering my time with you, because even if it hurts it is also comforting. These memories are the only thing that still connect me to you, so I will never let them go, and perhaps someday I will be able to recall them without pain, just with happiness.
With all the love in the world,
Your beloved granddaughter.
I created the piece after asking myself “what’s something I can’t live without?” At first, I didn’t have any ideas but when I stopped thinking about material things and something that I had already lost it was clear what I had to write.
