AND I LOVE YOU SO

BY REILLY BRADY, 11

Grandma, I remember so much.

I remember holding your hand to cross the strange, diagonal street to the library. I remember trudging up the hill to our favorite breakfast restaurant called Eat n’ Park, which we always made fun of, because shouldn’t you park your car before you eat?

I remember sneaking to the neighbor’s backyard only to glance back at the house and see you in the window, making sure I’m safe. I remember how you looked so sad after mom went to the hospital while I mostly felt confused, clutching her teddy bear close to me.

I remember just this morning, you texted me a note, saying, “A grandmother always thinks about her grandchildren day and night even if they are not with her and will love them in a way they will never understand.”

And that’s when I remembered all the times you’ve taken care of me. Every time I’m sick, you make a couch bed and an ice water. Each time I’m up late doing homework, you’re right there next to me, sometimes falling asleep while you’re quizzing me for a history test. Whenever I’m frustrated with someone, you threaten to go give them a piece of your mind yourself. You somehow know where I’ve misplaced something, when I need a pumpkin cookie, when I need a reassuring text.

And Mom, I remember so much, too. I remember you handing me a fourth Oreo to eat, because three is an unlucky number and should be avoided at all costs. I know that you like filling up water bottles all the way to the top with ice and that you aren’t very good at making decisions. And that you really like potatoes.

I remember visiting you in the hospital and being confused that you couldn’t talk, so I tried to write a message back to you, but you could hear me the whole time. I remember being puzzled when people gave you a second glance when you had to wear your breathing machine. I remember you giving up your wheelchair for me and letting me sit in it while I started throwing up at a tourist spot in France. I realize how far you’ve come. And I was with you to the end.

And to both of you, I remember an old song, the one grandma loves. But I couldn’t really remember the lyrics, so I looked it up. Love me tender, love me sweet. The music was playing softly, so I fumbled to find the volume button. Never let me go. I turned up the music, closing my eyes to appreciate the comforting voice of the singer.

And I love you so.