Abuelito.

That is what I called him. I miss him. I can say that honestly today, yesterday not so much. Yesterday when I learned of his passing all I could think was that I was glad he was finally resting. At the same time I felt guilty for feeling relieved. I almost felt that it was like saying I was glad it had happened, even tough it wasn't. So I didn't grieve, I spent most of the day thinking about him and remembering our time together, but not allowing my self to miss him, I didn't deserve to miss him. It had been almost 9 years since I last saw him and more then a few months since we last spoke, so I couldn't miss him. Even so I thought of him. My sister Meli came over and we hung out talked played some Pictionary, ate Pizza. It was quite fun. But the whole time that little voice in my head kept reminding me of him. But I shut it up, I wasn't allowed. My mother and my uncle gathered at my aunt's house which was good because I cant bear to see my mother yet, the thought of her tears over him hurt and bring tears to my eyes. She adored him, she and my youngest uncle were his favorites, the smile they brought into his bright grey eyes revealed it all. Today is hard, the full weight of his passing has slowly come down on me through the night. I dreamt of him last night which was odd because I never have before. I miss him. I obviously do, there is no more excuses for it. I tried but I just can't not miss him. He was always an anomaly to me. Always smiling the great big warm smile with those tiny teeth of his. He had a hard life but I never saw traces of it. H and my grandmother separated many years ago and he had been a bachelor since. He raised his youngest daughter alone and in time raised my oldest sister. You'd think it would have been difficult for a single man to raise to teenage girls but it wasn't his first time raising children on his own. My grandfather at about the age of 12 or 13 had lost both of his parents and was left alone in the world with about 3 siblings, he being the oldest. We are from El Salvador and in that country at that time there was no children's welfare program, no foster care, nothing. I don't recall if he had any other family, as far as I know he didn't. My grandfather raised his younger siblings. They were destitute when his parents passed, they had no home and no belongings it was just 4 kids alone, with no one to help, no hand outs and no one to take them in, nothing. He got a job picking cotton and corn and that way earned a little money to keep themselves alive and they mostly ate what ever fruit was in season. I distinctly remember him telling me that he hated mangoes for a long time because of this. They slept under trees near the field so that he could be one of the first in the morning when they came out to choose laborers. They all worked, even the youngest one, who could have been more than 5. It breaks my heart to know that they had to live that way. I cant even get my head around it. Most of my memories of him consist of him sitting in a hammock or on an Adirondack style chair under a shady Nance tree when I was about 2. He used to ask me to gather all the nances that had fallen overnight, so that I could give them to my grandmother to wash. He would tell me to hurry before the chickens came and ate them. The last time I went to El Salvador he asked if I remembered that, I said yes, he told me that I came at the wrong time of year; the nances weren't ripe yet. I was going to miss the season. I did, and now 9 years later, his season is passed too. There are many more stories of him like these that will be shared in my family in the coming days. Especially from my mother she misses him the most, but is very relieved that he has finally stopped suffering. She last saw him in July and although it took her a while to accept that he would soon be all but a memory, she couldn't help but hope it would be over quickly, his pain was too great. I think it is her pain, that hurts me the most. He really was all she had. He really was all we had. His name was Pedro Recinos, he was my grandfather. I miss him so much today, I didn't have him much in my life and now it seems like so much time was wasted, so much more I could have asked him. So many more stories about my mom and my uncles and their childhood just so many more things..... So many more more nances I could have picked, but the season is now past. I miss him. I think it's time to miss him, I owe it to him. I loved him, I really did, I think it's okay to say that now too, I'm allowed he was my grampa. My only one.