"Vulnerability" by Julianna M.

 

I was at the tender age of 14. Figuring out who I was and who I wanted to be was in the works, and quite frankly still is. 2017 and part of 2018 had a major impact on my views of life and the people around me. Unfortunately, many of us are no stranger to the vigorous process and the effects of the death of a loved one. Knowing the person has very little time left on this earth while simultaneously not knowing when that time will come is the most terrifying feeling. My grandparent’s last breaths are forever ingrained in the back of my mind. They saw the beginning of my life and I stood there, shaking in fear, and watched the end of theirs. Their house was somewhere I always felt safe and secure, but now that they aren’t there, it’s just wood and cement. I always said that their house was home but the more I think about it, the house means nothing to me anymore because ​they​were my home.

 

My grandma’s name was Agueda. She was the most giving person I knew. She was also equally as funny and had the best sense of humor. No matter what time of day it was, or even if she had just fed me 30 minutes ago, she always asked me if I was hungry. Since I was always at their house I would get quickly frustrated with that question, but now I wish I could tell her how much I appreciated her asking and how much I miss her cooking and how I wish I could wake up to the smell of it. Since she only spoke Spanish, her English was very broken. I used to be much better at speaking Spanish when I was younger because I was always around her. Today, my spanish-speaking skills have definitely deteriorated, which, I admit, obviously really disappoints me.

 

My grandpa’s name was Manuel. He was very patient with me and was definitely one of my best friends. He spoiled me so much and made sure I was always happy. When I was in middle school, I had a phase where I collected tons of chapsticks, lip balms, and lip glosses. He of course would take me to Target if I asked, and bought me the chapsticks and other things I wanted. In elementary school, I loved reading and would finish an entire book in one sitting. Sometimes, I would tell him that I was going to read to him and he would simply say “okay” and listen. Of course he would end up falling asleep, and be awakened by his own snoring and continued to listen until I finished reading. He took me and picked me up from school everyday until the beginning of freshman year, when he could no longer drive. He always told me how he wanted to see me drive and let me keep his car when I turned 16. He never got to see me drive. I wish I could tell him how much I truly enjoyed his company and how grateful I am to have had someone like him and know that he was there for me at all times, no matter what.

 

Their deaths have drastically impacted me and who I am today. During the span of time that I was losing them and even the months after I lost the both of them, I felt like I had to hold it all together for my mom because I saw how fragile she was. I didn’t even tell my closest friends how I was feeling and ended up isolating myself and losing a lot of them. That was definitely not the right choice to make. Not telling anyone how I was feeling and keeping it bottled up inside only made the pain harder to deal with and negatively affected my mental health. This entire experience taught me about vulnerability and that it’s not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength. I have gotten better at expressing how I feel, but I do find myself struggling at times, which is why I’m writing this and allowing myself to be vulnerable with my class and other

classes reading this. I also learned to never take anyone or anything in my life for granted and to let the people I love and care about know that I appreciate them. So, if you still have your grandparents, go hug them, and tell them how much you appreciate them because you never know when you’ll reminisce and regret not saying certain things. If you’re feeling upset, allow yourself to be vulnerable and let it out.