Before you start reading, i want you to know a few things. First, this not a novel. Second, this is a paper on my family and it is very personal. I hope you enjoy.
I've been to Peru many times, it's really a very beautiful place- depending on which part you go to. Lima, Peru is full of victims of poverty. Which just so happens to be where my grandpa used to live.
Although, he was the complete opposite of being in poverty. He was loaded like a potato, and he had no problems at all. Except for his kidneys, which was a major problem. I assumed his job would help him through his awful time of need, he sold medical equipment to doctors.
He made lots of money off it and found himself a stunning, loyal, graceful, gorgeous wife and three honest, good-hearted children. Harry, Gary, and Wendie. His wife was also named Wendie, but everyone called her Carmella. Carmella was a very radiant, well formed enchanting, firm, delicate woman with high cheeks, arched eyebrows, thick eyelashes, plump lips, youthful skin, and perfectly straight teeth. She was a ballerina, a professional one, to be clear.
Every day she would put her luscious, brown, thick hair back into a perfectly pulled back bun, which sometimes looked like a chocolate donut glazed in chocolate syrup. She put on her pink, thin tights, then her black tight leotard that held everything in place.
Finally, she put on her rose-colored ballet shoes and danced the day away. That was, until she met my grandpa. 'he wasn't a bad man; he just wanted to keep their hard-earned money safe.
My grandpa was a very clean-cut, aged man. His washed out; white locks were always combed back very orderly. He always dressed to impress, with very formal attire. he was rugged and towered over everything and everyone. He was also a sharp, cautious, contemporary, blank, complete man. His goatee was perfectly placed onto his dimpled chin. His eyes were the brightest eyes you will ever see. If you looked at him, you would be able to tell that he was a bold, devoted, bookish man.
He thought that my grandma was wasting her time and money with ballet, but being the driven, unruly person that she is, she did not stop. Then, she became one of the most well-known names in all of Peru.
One morning she got very sick, she was dazed and alarmed, which is very uncommon for her, so she went to the doctor. "Congratulations" the doctor told her, "You're having a baby" she was astonished at the sound. She jumped for joy; my grandpa was even more blissful than she was.
She had two beautiful baby boys wrapped in blue blankets. the first child's name was Harry, a few years later, out came a Gary. Finally, she had a gorgeous little girl with big brown eyes, beautiful thick dark brown hair, and was covered in freckles, my mom. "Wendie" she told the doctor as she lay in her hospital bed.
Fast forward a few years to when my mom was sixteen. She had many bubbly, social, insane, combative friends, because she was very popular, who asked her to play Ouji with them. Being the dumb, reckless, irresponsible, domineering teenager she was, she said yes.
She talked to a gasp worthy ghoul who told her that her eldest brother, Harry, would pass while she was at school. She quickly thought it was nonsensical and moved on. About a week later, she came home from school. She hopped out of her Lamborghini and played with her keys in her hand as she trotted towards the front door of her house.
She walked in her house and it was the complete opposite of somber like it normally was. She could hear her mom's tears rolling from her eyes as her dad was trying to hold back his tears and his second son at the same time. Instantly, she knew what had just happened. She dropped to the cold, marble floor, let out her most powerful wail, and let the tears come down uncontrollably.
Meanwhile, in Georgia, my dad, James was about to go to bed. He was too worn out to wait for his older brother, Billy, to get home. He rose the next morning to Billy sleeping in his bed facing the other direction. They shared a room so this was normal.
He woke up early so he decided to take a catnap. Later his sleep was interrupted by his mom screaming, "BILLY WAKE UP, PLEASE WAKE UP BILLY, PLEASE!" He knew at that moment exactly what to do.
He quickly grabbed the avocado green rotary dial house phone and put it up to his ear as he dialed 911. BEEP CLICK CLICK. BOOP CLICK CLICK. BOOP CLICK CLICK. He explained to the kind sounding woman on the other line what had just happened.
When the medics got there, he knew at that moment exactly what he had to do. This sixteen year old, frail, skinny boy, lifted his broken, lanky, weepy mom and carried her out of the room with tears in both of their eyes as they watched the medics try to save her beloved son who was already gone.
His mom was bawling her eyes out, her son was gone and there was nothing she could do. Both of my unbelievably strong parents and grandparents have gone through the awful loss of a role model, a best friend, a son, a helper, a leader, a brother.
Later, the year is 2013. My grandpa, my best friend, my hero, the one who loved me the most. He got sick and was in the hospital for months. Everyone said he would be fine. I believed them. I went to Peru to visit him in the hospital, but little did i know that would be my last time I ever saw him. The beautiful nurse with long, dark, straight hair, pulled back in a ponytail rolled him out in a movable bed. I was tall enough to stand up but my uncle, Gary, had to hold my sister up on his shoulders.
He looked so happy to see his two granddaughters standing there before him. Even if it was for the last time. My mom told me not to cry, but I just couldn't help myself. I only got to see him for a few seconds, gave him the last kiss I will ever get from him and that was it.
I was on the phone with him a few weeks later and that was the last time I heard "Te ciero mucho mi amour." I would give anything to hear that again. When he was alive, I hated talking to him. Now that he's gone, i hate myself for it. I would do anything just to hear his voice or spend one minute with him. Just one more time. Next week, my mom walked in the classroom of Discovery Point over the summer, just a few days before my tenth birthday, drenched in her own tears. "Is it Abuelo?" I asked, hoping the answer to the question was no, but deep down i knew she was going to say yes. She nodded yes.
My heart broke instantly with the confirmation that he was gone forever. I lost my breath, my words, my heart, my best friend, my life, my grandpa. I lost everything that day except for my tears. I was never the same.
At least I know he is very happy with Harry and Billy somewhere great where they will never fee the pain our families did, watching me do everything I ever wanted to do. Even if its not with him.