“Enough with this negative energy, Abuelo—you’re going to live for another twenty years. And Ollie, you’re going to make the team.”
“It’s funny that you’re being so positive, but when it comes to something related to your life, you’re the complete opposite.” Ollie rolls his eyes.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Oh, you know exactly what I mean. You’re always saying, ‘I don't know if I can do it,’” he says in a mocking tone, earning chuckles from Mom and Abuelo.
“Your brother is right,” Mom says with a nod. “You do tend to doubt yourself a lot.”
For as long as I can remember, I’ve struggled with thinking I’m not good enough. Not deserving enough. That nothing I do could ever be praised or appreciated. The voices in my head spew negativity on a daily basis, making sure I keep myself in check and don’t get too proud of anything I accomplish. No matter how hard I try to drown them out, the voices are always too loud.
I choose to be a glass-half-empty kind of person, because it’s easier than getting my hopes up only to be met with disappointment.
Mom finishes cooking, and Ollie and I help her set the table.
“Let us say a prayer before we dig in,” Abuelo says, holding his hands out.
We all join hands and bow our heads as Abuelo leads us in prayer.
“Dear Lord, we pray and honor you. Thank you for bringing us together for this meal. May this food refresh and nourish our bodies, minds, and spirits. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”
“Amen,” we say in unison.
Abuelo had never been a religious person. When Abuela was still alive—she passed away when I was in elementaryschool—she used to force him to go to church with her and attend church events.
But after he was diagnosed with cancer, he turned his life over to God. He felt like he hadn’t been living life correctly because he lacked God’s presence. Building a relationship with God helped him cope with his cancer diagnosis and has allowed him to remain positive.
“Mmm. This is delicious, Valeria. It tastes just like your mother’s,” Abuelo says.
I swallow a spoonful and tilt my head back in satisfaction. It’s incredibly savory, and the tender meat melts on my tongue.
“Is La Diabla still giving you a hard time?” Abuelo asks.
I can’t help but chuckle at the nickname we gave Veronica. “Oh, you know it. I swear she gets worse every day. Today she misplaced her car keys and blamed me for it.”
“Maybe you can get her some of those special gummies you like to eat to help calm her down,” Ollie says.
I cast a glare in his direction and kick him hard under the table.
“Ow!” he yelps.
“I really wish you hadn’t left New York because of me,” Abuelo says, staring down at his hands. “You wouldn’t have to deal with her, and you would’ve been happy.”
After I graduated, I returned home to visit before I started my internship. Abuelo had a worsening cough that wouldn’t go away, and he had lost a lot of weight. Mom said she’d been begging him to see a doctor, but he was too stubborn to go. It took a lot of convincing, but I finally got him to agree.
He got a scan done that showed a mass in his lung. The biopsy confirmed that he had stage-three small cell carcinoma. The doctor informed us that the cancer was very aggressive and urged us to start treatment right away to prevent it from metastasizing.
Abuelo used to smoke Cuban cigars daily, but he hadn’ttouched one in over fifteen years. I was angry at the fact that someone so kind and pure had to be punished.
We got into a huge argument when I told him I was moving back home permanently. He knew how hard I had worked to get that internship and hated to see me give it all up.
I give his hand a squeeze, smiling. “I am happy, Abuelo. My job may not be what I wanted, but I have so many things to be grateful for. I was so lonely in New York. Being able to spend more time with my family is what makes me happy.”
He squeezes my hand back, his eyes crinkling into a smile. “Te quiero, mi rosa.”
“Te quiero, Abuelo.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
