I still remember that day as if it were today.

It was the 8th of November in 2011, a typically

hot and sunny day of spring when all the flowers were permitted to bloom and the trees were
full of green leaves as a shining emerald, one of my favorite seasons. That day I woke up
very early in the morning because I had to go to primary school. My mother made me
breakfast while I changed from my pajamas to the Normal school uniform, a white t-shirt, a
navy blue skirt with a matching jacket. The fantastic smell of freshly made toast advanced in
my bedroom along with what I imagined would be a steaming and delicious cup of tea and
my empty belly perceived it too. As soon as I finished, I quickly went to the dining room
where my mom was waiting for me with her beautiful smile followed by her typical phrase
“Good morning, darling”. Both of us were having our completely different breakfast while
watching the TV. She was drinking her bitter mate which with its intense aroma were the
culprits of my morning sickness, and me with my toasts and my sweet tea. In the instant that
we both finished I decided to go to brush my teeth to leave our house.
The day was completely ordinary and boring. I arrived at school, I greeted my friends and
teachers, I had all my subjects, nobody missed class, and finally, I ended my lessons. Once
my classmates and I said goodbye to the vice-chancellor, we were free to leave the
institution but I had to wait for my sister or my mom to come for me. In that case, it was my
sister who came because my mother was busy at work. We lived nearby so we walked and
along the way we talked about our day. There wasn't anything special in our chat.
Eventually, we arrived home again and as usual: we, our parents and our brother had lunch
together. Our menu was milanesas with mashed potatoes, something “Easy, quick, delicious
and cheap” like my brother used to say. When we ended the meal everybody helped to clear
the table and the dishes. At that moment I decided to go to my bedroom, although I felt tired
and I wanted to take a nap at the same time I felt excited because it was Tuesday. On
Tuesdays and Thursdays, I had to go to my basketball club to train or play a match with
another club, something that completely changed my days. I fell on the bed to rest for a few
seconds knowing that I had things to do but my reward was to go to Almafuerte, my club.
At 4 p.m my brother accompanied me to the club and he told me that he would come for me
two hours later and so it was. Immediately as I saw him I knew something was wrong but I
preferred to be silent. I was arriving home after playing a basketball match when my mom
gave me the bad news. My grandfather who was in the Uruguay clinic due to cardiac
problems had passed away or in my mom’s words “He has gone, sweetie”. At that moment I
didn’t understand what was happening, I was shocked and I didn’t want to accept it. My mom
told me that I have to take a shower and after that, we will say goodbye to my grandfather,
so she prepared some clothes for me.
When I finally entered the shower thought was spinning in my head “It can’t be true, it must
be a joke”. Unconsciously I decided to believe in that thought, I held on to it. I left the shower
and got dressed without accepting the news. I didn’t feel anything, neither happiness nor
sadness. I was with a poker face in automatic mode waiting for my family to get ready to go
to the funeral but I innocently believed that we would go to the clinic to see my grandfather. If
we go to the clinic I could give him my drawing of us, thus transmitting my love and my hope
that he would recover soon.
Everybody was ready, so my dad deactivated the pickup truck’s alarm and we got in. I was
the last to enter and I had to sit on my mom’s knees because our pickup truck had only three
seats and we were five. Along the way, my family was talking about something but I didn’t
listen or say a word. I was very focused on the view to try to recognize something that told
me that we were going to the clinic but nothing seemed familiar to me. Suddenly my dad
stopped and my mom opened the door, forcing me to be the first to get out. When my foot
touched the floor I lifted my head and I could see some relatives of my family and also some
strangers, at least for me. I was there, in an unknown place standing in the street not
knowing what would come. I was confused, the place from outside seemed to be beautiful as
if it were a small park with a roof.
My mom took my hand and I took a deep breath as if I had to submerge my head in the
water. We crossed the street and started to greet people there. Even my aunt Marta who
lives in Córdoba was there. I could hear from everywhere “my condolences” but I didn't give
it much importance, at the end of the day I did not know its meaning. Suddenly I could see
my grandmother, who was holding a rosary with her right hand, and I needed to run to hug
her. I didn’t know at that moment but this woman which I called Nona was destroyed and
alone. Nona said, “Oh honey, we will miss him”. For me, this last was THE sentence that
confirmed my worst fear: I couldn’t say goodbye to him.
My sister asked me if I wanted to see my Nono and my last ray of hope grew. I nodded and
she led me to the room where he was… There it was, my grandfather in a coffin who
seemed to be sleeping but without a pulse. He, who used to be the happiest person I knew,
was there without any expression, without any colour, just there like a lost pen that ran out of
ink and actually it was like that, my Nono ran out of ink to continue telling and writing his
story... That image devastated me and I burst into tears like a baby. My grandpa, my Nono,
my adventure partner was no more. I could feel how my heart broke into pieces as easily
and faster as a bottle of glass. I was certain that I wrote something to him but my mind
blocked that memory and time stopped for me.
I came back to reality when it was time to go to the cemetery for his burial. People threw
roses at him and I gave him our drawing. When I did it my body felt light and my anguish
was gone, like if he told me “I received your message”. I had a lot of inner peace and the
tears stopped running down my cheeks but the pain was still in my heart. The burial ended
and we as a family went home.
Finally, at home, I decided to go to our garden where there was a jasmine plant, the favorite
of my Nono and the one that he gave us. I sat on the ground with a flower in my hand
thinking about how all happened so quickly without any advice and also thinking that it was
the last time that I could see him. I regretted not having taken advantage of my time more
with him but well… life goes on and I was very glad to have met him. During all these things
going through my head I saw something moving and I felt a little bit scared but when I saw it
for a second time I realized what it was about. It was a hummingbird in plenty of colours or
for me... my Nono. He visits me at least once in november and he always goes to the
jasmine.