A sad day

A few years ago, my grandfather had a series of strokes and surgeries which left him unable to walk and function like he used to. My grandmother, the person with the biggest heart, tried her best to take care of him at home despite her old age and osteoporosis. It came to the point where she was risking her health in order to take care of him and the only option was to put him in a nursing home. That was over a year ago.

Nonno (Christmas 2012)

Today, on my day off, I finally decided to pay my Nonno a visit. Unfortunately, this time was different. My aunt and I approached Nonno - who was sitting in his reclined wheelchair with his eyes shut. He easily dozes in and out of sleep so we shook him gently to get his attention and say hello. I immediately gave him a kiss on the cheek like I always do. He stared at me. I took off my glasses. Maybe he wasn't used to seeing me in them. I smiled hoping for his smile in return. Instead, he took off his glasses too. Without anything blocking his widened eyes, it was like I could read his thoughts. My aunt asked, "Do you know who this is?" Nonno shook his head.

I have never experienced true grief and, for that reason, I am so afraid of losing someone. I tell myself that my Nonno is still here, that he isn't gone yet, but it's difficult to know that parts of him are slipping away.

"It's Diana, your granddaughter," my aunt said. He still looked confused and I still smiled. I knew that this day would come and, to be honest, I had a feeling it would be today. It made my heart sink, but what mattered was that I was there. Whether he recognized me or not, even though he didn't say a word, I still showed up to sit beside him and to walk him through the nursing home halls.

On my drive home, the sun was blinding. The flares of light reminded me of entering a vision or a dream. I imagined the days when my Nonno was cheery, when he would play Italian card games with me (and let me win), when he would hand me the remote when he was watching soccer, and when I would sing and dance and make him smile.

Sometimes it takes pictures and videos to remember what Nonno looked and sounded like then. As soon as I hear his voice or see a photo of him smiling, all of this warmth floods into my soul. I think it's a mixture of love and appreciation because I know that my Nonno, who typically seemed old-fashioned and stern, opened his heart to me. When he would smile or laugh with me, it felt rare and special and making him happy has always made me happy.

Nonno and 3-year-old me

This is one big, teary-eyed subject for me. It is hard to be the unrecognizable girl with her fingers crossed so that maybe her Nonno will remember her tomorrow. I can't know that he'll remember me ever again. I do know that my Nonno is one of the few people on this planet that I desperately love - not just because he is my grandfather but because he is such an amazing person. I know that he is still here and that I will kiss him hello again.