I remember watching a movie with all my cousins in my grandmother's room, High School Musical, to be exact. We watched it in the hospital all the time when the adults would visit my grandfather. It was the go-to movie. I remember playing a recorder in his room at the house. The adults thought I was too loud so they told me to go watch the movie. Their eyes were wet. I didn't know why. So I left to make them happy. I remember hearing a scream. Not a scared one, more sad. Like a mournful scream. And that's when the crying started. I was the first one to leave the room where my cousins were. Back then, it was polite to say hi to my grandparents whenever we entered a room with them in it. So I hugged my grandmother, my shirt was wet when I pulled away, I ignored it. Next was my grandfather. Funny, I thought, why would he be sleeping when everyone is here? My aunt reached out to stop me but my dad shook his head at her. I looked at my grandfather and touched his hand, expecting his warm skin. I got a cold, wax-like response. I didn't understand. I smiled at him and shook him a little but he didn't move. I didn't understand. I quietly said Apa, wake up. I didn't understand. I got scared and shook him harder, he didn't even twitch. I didn't understand. The cousins started coming in, along with my sister, they all kept their heads down. I didn't understand. I shouted, APA WAKE UP. I didn't understand. I started crying, if this was a joke, I didn't understand. I could hear HSM playing loudly in the background. The aunts told the kids to turn it off. I didn't understand. The nurse told us she was sorry for our loss, I didn't understand. We didn't lose anything, I shook my grandfather again, Apa? Tell her we didn't lose anything. He didn't move. He wasn't moving. I didn't understand. My mom got up and picked me up, taking my sister's hand, we left without my father, he stayed with Apa, probably trying to wake him up too, I saw him approach the bed. My father was crying. I didn't understand.
A week later, I didn't understand why I had to wear black, I wanted to wear blue, why couldn't I bring my stuffed animal? Why was I being pushed into a limo? Why was my father so serious? I didn't understand. We got to the place where rocks stuck up out of the ground. My mom told me not to walk over them, It's disrespectful, she said. I picked up fake flowers from the ground that were blown off of their arrangements. Everyone else had flowers. I didn't understand.
I didn't understand. Why was Apa in a black box? Why was he so still? Couldn't they see he wasn't breathing? The box was killing him. The guy in the front stopped talking. We got up and got in a line to look at Apa. It was my turn. I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, expecting him to laugh and kiss me back like always. He didn't, I didn't understand. Everyone was crying now. I didn't understand.
Two years later we visited Apa. I understood. He had cancer. We don't talk about it. He smoked a lot. We don't talk about that. He had ten kids with his wife, who now was alone. We don't talk about that either. He died five days before my dad's birthday, we didn't celebrate that year, we still don't. I was five when he died. I don't remember anything else from that year. We don't talk about him. Someone asks if I have a grandfather? I say no. I loved him so much and he was my first heartbreak. After all this time, why did he have to go? I didn't understand. Why can't I move on? I didn't understand.
And now my Grandmother is dying. And I understand.
