Who would you like to talk to soon?

I wanted to write this post on the 1st of June, but inspiration avoided me. I wanted it to be an ode to my childhood and to the two women who made it as good and as fairytale like as it was: my two grandmothers.

At first, when I saw the question, I thought of my maternal grandmother. Maybe because her passing is more recent, maybe because, as she lived in the same city as my parents and I, she was more present in my life, maybe because I miss her more or maybe because I loved her a bit more. Then, as I remembered all the times I felt truly safe and loved as I child, I discovered that my memories were divided between my two grandmothers.

What prompted me to write this post today? Well, as I was sitting on a bench in the park, I saw a little girl riding her bicycle. At first, I didn’t think anything special about the event, she seemed to be just another little girl riding on just another ordinary bike in just another ordinary park on just another ordinary morning.

Then, all of the sudden, I heard a woman cheering and cheering, then I saw her applauding and clapping her hands off like there’s no tomorrow. She was her grandmother. Over the course of ten minutes I heard her say “Bravo!!!” and “Good job!” more times than I’ve said it to myself in a lifetime.

I started crying. Partially because I realized I would never get that sort of praise ever again, partially because I missed my grandmothers and partially because I realized, maybe for the first time, what an important role they had in my life.

As that little girl riding the bike was acclaimed like she had just discovered a universal cure to all known diseases, so was I. Everything I did, from peeling a potato to graduating college, from tying my shoelaces to getting my driver’s license, I was, in their eyes, the best.

Both my grandmothers made sure I was loved, fed and happy. There was nothing, and when I say nothing I mean nothing, I ever wanted that they didn’t do for me. From tiny clothes for my Barbie dolls to sweets I craved, from telling me the same bedtime story over and over again to playing with me for hours, when they were present, I was the star of the show, the apple of their eyes, their reason for being alive.

If I were to talk to them soon, first, I would hug them so tight they would become a part of me. Then, I would apologize for all the times I acted like a spoiled brat, for all the times I could have called them, but was too busy or forgot, for not being able to realize in the moment how precious they are and for never telling them a straightforward “I love you”.

Although I can sometimes feel their presence and can imagine what they would say in different circumstances, it would be so incredibly fucking awesome to be able to spend a few hours or just a few minutes with them. I know that they are watching over me and helping me in whatever form they can because they are my guardian angels, but, damn, do I miss them.

As the story goes, we never fully appreciate something or someone until they are gone. I was lucky enough to receive the love of two extraordinary women, lucky enough to have them as examples and supporters and lucky enough to be taken care of in such an amazing way. And, let’s face it, lucky enough to eat all that good food. Thank you and, if it’s possible, come visit me in my dreams so we could talk soon. I love you!