I remember that I would be about 5 years old and that weekend I would be 6 years old. Although I was very naughty, I liked to share with adults, especially with my grandmother Eugenia, who took me by the hand everywhere and laughed at my every thought. That spring my parents had decided to throw me a party with all my little friends from school, so they had rented tables and chairs and sent out to make a big cake, hors d'oeuvres and a piñata. They also decorated the house with colorful balloons and many streamers. This was going to be an unforgettable birthday.

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I remember that on the morning of the day indicated, I woke up with my grandmother's face close to mine. My grandmother hugged me, kissed me and congratulated me, and then she opened my hand and put some coins in it. That seemed like a familiar gesture, as if she had always done it. I took the coins and shouted for joy. I told my grandmother that I would go in the afternoon to buy sweets and soda. My grandmother laughed and ruffled my long hair with a loving gesture. After that, other gifts came: a brown teddy bear, a backpack for school, a rag doll, and other toys my parents gave me. In the afternoon the party started and the guests also filled my arms with presents.

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Every year, as I was growing up, I knew it was my birthday when I woke up and found coins in my hands. Sometimes I had parties where guests brought me beautiful and expensive gifts. Many of them, toys, clothes, that any child would have wanted. But whenever I woke up, there was my grandmother's face, close to mine, smiling, wishing me a beautiful birthday and putting coins in my hand.

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When I turned 15, my grandmother must have spent some time in another city, so that time I woke up and found myself empty-handed. At first I was upset, but then I forgot and started celebrating early one of the most important ages of a girl. I remember that in the afternoon I spoke on the phone with Grandma and she promised me that she would give me her present when she returned. I told her not to worry, that I was already grown up and that I was sure to get money from other people. And it was like that, pink envelopes abounded with checks and bills inside. That was also an unforgettable celebration.

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After that trip, my grandmother never came home again. She became so ill that she was bedridden. The doctor's diagnosis was fulminating: she had cancer and only a few months left. She died in July, in her sleep and with a slight smile on her face. I remember that when we heard the news, we all went to see her off. I did not cry at the time because I felt that she was not dead. Later I would cry like a little girl when I realized that it was not a nightmare and that it was the harsh reality. That was one of the longest and blackest days of my life.

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With her death, my grandmother was more present in the family, as we all remembered her every day. If someone had an ailment, we drank the teas she used to prepare for us for every ailment: chamomile for the nerves, cinnamon tea for digestion, guava leaf tea for the gums. If we couldn't sleep, we remembered the stories she used to tell us and if we had cravings, Mom would try to make the homemade sweets that Grandma made. As if from a recipe book of actions, words and life tips she had left us, we found ourselves following many of the recommendations that Grandma had made to us in life.

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I still remember her every birthday. Her face was close to mine, singing me a happy birthday and very specially, leaving in my hand a few coins as a present. With time I have learned that sometimes we receive gifts that are unforgettable; gifts that without being anything, are everything. I have also learned that just as we take some people by the hand and walk, sometimes we hold on to a memory and walk with it to the end. But most especially I have learned that sometimes we lack life to miss so many people and that when we remember them, we are happy again.

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Written by: @nancybriti

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