I Said Goodbye to My Grandfather Yesterday

He was ninety-seven, in his house surrounded by family and sleeping on morphine.

I knocked on my grandma's door. My mom greeted me in. My grandma was sitting, majestic queen that she's always been, her life changing with every tick of the clock.

I sat. We chitchatted for a bit. I asked if he was sleeping.

"Yes, do you want to see him?" My mom asked.

"Yes."

My mom and grandma walked in first. I followed them.

There he was, unable to contain his love even in death.

His "Senior Bed" was attached to their martial bed. His top half was on the marital one, his bottom half was in hospital. My grandma went to the restroom. I asked my mom, "What's going on here?"

She responded, "We tried to straighten him but he just wouldn't budge, not even on morphine."

Legend, I thought. Maybe this is his way of thanking his wife for keeping him alive this long. This was it. we were all audiences to his final "Thank you" to the person he loved most.

I don't remember the next few seconds but I eventually pretended to be leaving with my mom and grandma to the living room. But I turned back and sat on the ledge of the marital bed alone. I started crying. My grandma returned. I could tell by the sound her indoor sandals.

We didn't look at each other but she held my arm and said, "My darling, you have to give us the strength of your heart. Your grandfather lived a long and good life. Let's go." She sounded strong, powerful.

I nodded and wiped my eyes. then I kissed his closed hand and his forehead.

In the Living room, my grandma brought me grapes. My mom, my aunt who'd just arrived and I talked a bit, trying to make small jokes. His final words to my uncle had been, "I need a haircut." He used to cut my grandpa's hair.

I left shortly after.

That was the last time I saw my grandfather.

The man who bought me my first milk bottle, took me to kindergarten, made wine with me, drank wine with me, told me jokes, heard my jokes, and danced.

Legend.