In 2021, I was struck by not just one, but two heartbreaking losses within the span of a month. My grandfather passed away in a car accident on his way to Mexico in September, and my grandmother followed in October after her battle with COVID.

For the first few months, I felt numb, and I found myself replaying every small interaction I’d ever had with them. When they passed away, it hit me hard…I hadn’t spent nearly enough time with them.

I often look back at the moment when my mom moved us to Arizona. We slept on a mattress in my grandparents’ garage. Oddly enough, I remember that time with fondness because we were all together. My grandfather would gather me, my siblings, and cousins, telling us stories about El Cucuy, El Coco, and La Llorona. He’d even point to my grandmother’s collection of porcelain dolls and tell us they were haunted, making us laugh and feel just a little spooked.

In the mornings, my grandmother would do my hair for school. pulling my hair so tight, making my head jerk back, telling me “no muevas, no muevas”, but it’s one of those things I smile about now. She introduced me to coffee, and I haven’t looked back since, I still remember the first cup she me made, handing it to me with her gentle hands so I wouldn’t burn myself.

When I first got my license, my mom asked me to pick up my grandmother from work. It was my first time driving that far, I’d only ever driven down the street before. My hands were sweaty, and I was nervous, but I was determined to get her home in one piece. As I got older, she’d often call me for rides, and now I realize how much I took those moments for granted. I would do anything to be able to take her somewhere now.

My grandmother also had the greenest thumb you could imagine. Flowers bloomed wherever she walked. She also had goats and birds and could knit with incredible skill. My grandfather, on the other hand, was a jokester, always cracking a smile and making us laugh. He worked hard, but when it came to dancing and singing with my grandmother, he was a child. He loved to bring people together with music and dancing and even some drinking. He’d always try to get us to dance bachata or Jarabe Tapatío with him. I was always hesitant, but now I wish I’d gotten up and danced.

One of my favorite memories is of my grandfather’s 60th birthday. He never celebrated birthdays growing up, so my family went all out! We threw him a party with a jump house, cake, a piñata, the whole nine yards. I can still hear him laughing as he jumped in the bounce house, like a kid. That day felt like pure joy.

It’s been almost three years since I lost them, and the pain hasn’t gotten any easier. But they are my inspiration, my reason. Losing them made me reflect on my life, and I knew I had to make a change. I promised myself that I would live a life worthy of them, one full of love, hard work, and laughter, just like they taught me.

A mis abuelos, te extrano, porsiempre.

– tu chavelita