My grandfather died from COVID-19. He was more than just a number

“The numbers aren’t that bad.”

In comparison, they may show a “seemingly good survival rate.” But the only number that should make anyone want to be safer is one.

Last week, my family lost that one.

To others it may just seem like another number on a long list of news articles and papers. But to me that one was my kind and loving Grandpa Juan. I understand it may be difficult to follow these new guidelines. And I understand that some people refuse to believe that the virus exists. That it’s just a conspiracy. Or that it’s just an election year.

I’m not asking anyone to change their beliefs. All I’m asking is that people ask themselves the question, what if? What if it is real? What if it is as dangerous as scientists and medical field workers all around the world are claiming it is? What if wearing a mask and socially distancing really does make enough difference to save even just ONE life? What if?

Because all I need is that what if.

Because the suffering isn’t worth the regret.

I don’t blame anyone. As my Grandpa wouldn’t have. He was an outgoing man who loved socializing with everyone.

I only ask that people try to believe. Believe that they can help someone. Believe that they can possibly save a life. Even if it’s a slight inconvenience to their everyday life. Because what is inconvenience compared to the departed? I ask again, please.

I love you and I miss you.

I miss you, Grandpa. I miss your hellos. I miss your how are you’s. I miss your okays and very goods. I miss you, Grandpa.

You were a light louder than the voice that carried throughout the entire house when you walked in.

Your smile, to this day, remains contagious. Even as I just think about it. Your ability to make me laugh with the most innocent of actions, like planting a stick in your backyard and having it turn into an entire tree. All the memories and all the Sundays.

I miss everything about you, Grandpa.

You were always so kind, even in the most difficult times. I just want you to know that I love you. And I wish I could have told you one last time in person. Even though I know I said it the last time I said goodbye. But I still wish I could say it once more. I still wish I could hug you one last time. And ask you how you’re doing, like I did every time I saw you. Even though I knew what the answer was going to be.

Very good.

I hope you’re doing very good up there, Grandpa. I love you.