How do I put this?
How do I explain how you left me feeling?
The day I lost you I was…




I was…




upset,









confused,








hurt,








and torn apart inside.

The day I went to wake you up to tell you that Auntie Jessica was in…

was in…


was in labor with your soon to be grandson.
He is now my mini-me.


He is my pride and joy.
You were still snoring and I was so excited to tell you that you were going to meet your grandson soon,
but…
but…
but when I shook you, you wouldn’t wake.
I thought this was just you playing with me like the many times before.

You meant so much more to me than a grandpa to me,


my grandpa,



my brother,




my partner in crime,






my best friend.

After you died I was so distraught,

I wouldn’t eat much,


I would cry, cry, and cry;



I moved into your room; I still haven’t left your room ‘til this day.
I cry now even as I write this because I still miss you,

when you were taken from us it was horrid, to me you were torn away from me,


and not a day passes by where I don’t wish you were back.

I miss all of the stupid spats,

I miss you calling me Flaca and I jokingly would call you Gordo,


I miss teasingly screaming, “Na na na na na Fatman!” as you walked down the stairs,



I miss our bonding while we bowled,




I miss the shirts I bought you that you would proudly wear:

“I’m fat, but you’re ugly. I can lose weight, but you can never change.”
“Grandpas Gone Wild: Keep staring I just might do a trick.”

You spoiled me rotten,

but you also listened to me when no one else would.


I also miss your toothless grin.



I often stare at the picture of you taken at your last birthday,



I smile but tears well up in my eyes,

I just wish I still had you in my life,
I hope you know you helped make me who I am today, and I love you,

I love you,


I love you,



I love you more than you could ever imagine.


Te amo abuelito,

I hope heaven is full of life’s little indulgences,
but most of all I hope you are proud of me because without you I don’t know who I would be.