“You don’t what you’ve got until it’s gone.” This is a quote that I believe the world should live by, though it can be hard to remember when you’re live is either too busy, or just fine and dandy. But I remember that day that my mom told me something about my grandma, who I love dearly, that would change my life forever.
We were getting something to eat at the local Taqueria, when my mom reminded me and my little sister to pray for Grandma, who we’ve nicknamed Sugar. I had known about the surgery for a little less than a week now, but I couldn’t recall the reason for why she was having such a thing. So I asked, as innocent as a child could be, and I could sense the doom that was soon to come.
My mom got quiet, as she looked down, moved her food about, and said, “For her breasts.” The news felt like I got hit in the stomach in a Dodgeball game, knocking the wind outta me. Reality had never clicked as fast for me before. I grew a couple years older in a matter of seconds, as I now knew that this is real. This happens, and it affects a ton of people.
“Is…my grandma going to be okay?” was the only phrase I could think of, as I asked it more than once.
“Of course she will, it’ll just be a long recovery, about six weeks, and we’ll all take special good care of her,” answered my mother.
I didn’t cry then, in fact it took me a couple days to get tears out of me at all.
The week of the surgery, I went to my church’s youth group-like activity. I was grateful I came late, seeing as that everyone was going up to get pick strips of paper. Then I knew. I grabbed a stack and sat in the corner with my cousin and a couple friends. I snapped the pen off of my marker, as my hands started to shake, and after the letter "I”, I could feel the tickling of my tears sliding down my face.
She was going to be okay.