I was 7 years old when my family and I received the news that my grandfather was in the hospital. He was living in Georgia by himself. My grandma didn't think it was that serious. She thought he was just probably sick. We were shocked when we knew what actually happened.
"How did this happen ?" I said to myself. My grandfather was robbed and was almost beaten to death. Afterwards he was in a coma. I never meet my grandfather; he moved to Georgia in 1993 and he never came back to Mexico. What I regretted the most was that I never spoke to him on the phone. Whenever he called my grandma and I was there, I always refused to talk to him because I don't really like to talk on the phone and I didn't really know what to say.
"Your grandpa is on the phone, go talk to him" my mom would say to me.
"No, I'll talk to him next tie he calls" I would say to my mom.
The doctor finally called my grandma and he told her that my grandfather had just passed away. I remember my grandma was so heartbroken and so was my dad.
"Why did this happen to him ?" I could hear my grandma asking my dad in the living room.
I was 7 years old, but I still remember that day perfectly. I honestly felt like the worst person in the planet. A couple of days later my grandfather's body was sent back to Mexico.
I remember one of my uncles was outside my grandma's house when all of a sudden he came inside runing yelling "HE"S HERE, HE"S HERE", he was talking about my grandpa. I remember my uncle traveled all the way from North Dakota to Mexico just to see my grandfather one last time.
It's been almost 10 years since he passes away, but it feels like it was yesterday. If I could go back in time, I would love to talk to him. That's one of the things I'm probably going to regret all my life. You always have to tell your family or the people that you care about that you love them before it's too late. The only time I got to say hello to my grandfather was also the day that I had to say goodbye.