Meet My Friend Crimson

Intro

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Buffalo, the city we were about to leave behind to move to New York City. I wasn't too upbeat about it, 'cause you know, leaving old friends behind and the place you practically grew up in was a real tragedy. It sucked to be in the middle of that, especially at 16, but there was no convincing my parents when they had made up their mind. In fact, I was in tears the other night just thinking about leaving Danny and Bethany forever. They acted like they got it and were cool with it, but I knew they weren't, we just had way too much history and good times to look back on. The end of September could not get any worse.

So I sat by my abuelita's grave with my knees pulled up to my chin and I said a little prayer to myself, keeping it quiet because I didn't want to disturb everyone else resting, "Father, please take care of my abuelita's soul, keep her safe and in your hands, out of harm and tell her how much I love and miss her and that I always think about her. Sometimes I see her in my dreams and think it's real until I wake up and I'm just in my room, on my bed staring at the clock in front of me. Give me a sign that she's okay, anything to put my heart to rest. Let us meet again in heaven, Amen."

I opened my eyes at the end of the prayer and wiped the tears out of my eyes. I miss my grandmother more than anything in the entire world, she was my rock and the spirit of my life. She was like the glue that kept us all together, and ever since she crossed the bridge to the other side, our lives were falling apart and we had no idea what to do about it.

My dad tapped my shoulder and sat next to me on the green grass whilst looking at the headstone with her name carved into it: Marianna Clemente Diaz. What a woman. I scooted closer to my dad so that his arm could comfort me, and so he'd tell me some nice story about when he was younger.

"She was a great person, your abuelita, she was gracious, kind and understanding. No matter what mess I got into, she was there to help me out of it," he said.

I noticed the tears in his eyes which wasn't new when it came to his mother, he loved her and so did we all. I got to spend 15 good years of my life knowing her and annoying her, and everything a kid would do with a grandmother that was the symbol of joy and love.

"I just wish she was still here," I cried all of a sudden because it was hard to keep it in, especially when the sun was directly shining on the top of her gravestone and the evening hue encompassed us in its crimson colour.

My dad sighed heavily and put his hand on my head and ruffled my hair a little, "Me too, baby."

I sniffled and rested my head on his shoulder, just looking at the dates again and again. It was the most hurtful feeling ever, knowing some things in life are inevitable and there's nothing you can do to stop them happening. It's just the cycle of how things are; you live, you grow and raise children of your own, you see them grow and then you slowly begin to fade away, unable to stop time and feel young again, but at least you can inspire those who come after you, and that's what Marianna did.

She put every single person first and herself last. She made the best meals and always had a smile on her face, even when half her teeth were gone, ah the cuteness. She didn't give up on anybody, my dad was the biggest example. He was failing every class in school, he fell in with the wrong guys and couldn't stay out of trouble for even a day, but my abuelita didn't shut him out or send him to some boarding school, she kept on going, kept on teaching, giving her lessons like her life depended on it, and he was fine.

He was a fixed person because his mama never gave up on him. I think to myself sometimes, if more parents were like that, then there'd be a hell lot less crime and broken children, if only they set out to do what they were meant to do.