I could not imagine the day my heart would fall apart, but one day it just shattered like a delicate, light, glass sculpture. I sat still, bright sunrays reflecting in my watery eyes, tears rolled slowly down my pale cheeks. I pulled down my black tight dress and clinched my sweaty feet as my black sparkling flats fell off to the ground. The fresh green smell of white roses made me cry even more. I rolled my head around just looking for the wooden casket; I wiped my tears with my cold hands and stared at the stained glass window. Tinted smiles were drawn on windows, just like the one on me while I kissed hello in my uncle’s warm cheeks. We called him Pane no one knows why.
    Big strong men brought the casket into the church.  I closed my eyes shut, just knowing the fact that my grandfather was in there, dead was the worst feeling I could have ever felt in just a few years of my childhood. As my eyes were shut I could see a happy life, where my grandpa was in it. I just stood in there at the top of the stairs reaching my head forward and grabbed tight into the rail. Long cement stairs in my grandma’s house, I skipped down the stairs into the tall glass door, running to my grandpa’s delicate arms with a wide open welcome. I hugged him real hard like I hug my teddy bear at night and drool the night away. He would always say good afternoon with a big smile in his face, his eyes would even clinch smaller like mine always do.
“Want to go to Sultana?” he asked like he always does.
“Absolutely yes!” I said with a sweet voice jumping up and down.
We usually went in the famous carcacha Pane loves. The carcacha is a Ford model T depot hack from 1919 that my grandpa had all his life. Since he was born his father had it. It is very old. He really enjoyed driving the carcacha around, just seeing the beautiful mountains and breathing in the smell of tacos was the best of it all.  I can still picture his joyful face and his laughter, loud but sweet. While driving around the breeze of the air made me cuddle up like a baby is my comfy cotton sweater. When finally arrived to Helados Sultana and we got what we always get a hot molten lava fudge brownie with a freezing vanilla scoop on top.
“Mmmmm” we both mumbled licking our top lip, while eating another spoonful of brownie. We stayed a while there talking in the benches until the sun faded away.
We were back at Pane’s house and he delicately gave me a grape flavored lollipop, I headed back home quickly.
Suddenly I felt my mom’s warm hand on my back and she whispered gently in my tiny ear that it was time to take our seats because the mass was about to start. I was back at the funeral, again. I kept staring at the casket’s flowers. Those beautiful white flowers will always make me remember of the day my heart fell apart. The feeling at the church was sad, even God was crying his tears away. Everyone was crying at times and hugging while musicians played sad violin music, one more note played and the chords were literally going to break. The huge knot in my throat made me unable to speak, I resisted my tears but like always, they won.
“It’s okay.” My Aunt Catalina whispered in my tiny ear.
I sniffed and wiped my tears away.
“No one is going to judge you, everyone here knows exactly how you feel.” She mentioned.
“Just remember one thing, Pane is in a happier place and the hardest part is always moving on.”
I stood with my head facing down, silent, my lips were glued together. But there is no such thing as moving on, there’s only grief left inside. Grief what a word. Leaving lumps in your throat every time you attempt to speak. Time, she said that with time everything would feel better. But time may mean seconds, minutes, hours, days, years or even decades. Eventually, life goes on and does get better with time. Even though Pane is not actually here, he will always be in our hearts. Every time I think about it, rivers of tears start coming out. It’s like a feeling you can’t control. Every time I remember, I try to think of all the happy moments I had with Grandpa Pane, seeing the positive side of it, repeating the thought that he has a better life in heaven. I always take a big breath and let my thoughts fade away. The priest was talking about my Pane and the wonderful life he had and my mind went again, but now to the horrible day before.
Weu Weu Weu Ooo went the rapid and loud ambulance; my small mouth was wide open and my eyes bigger than ever, what is happening? I thought. I went running as fast as I could to my grandma’s house because we live just a few feet away, there were my dad, his brothers and sisters and my grandma crying. Why was she crying? I had a bunch of questions in and out my head by  just seeing the emotions and faces of my grandma. I went down the stairs pounding my pink dazzling sandals. I stood there blinking, like it was a dream, trying to snap out of it but pinching my little skinny arm would not make a difference. Seriously I was really scared it was the first time I saw my dad with actual teardrops in his face.
“Isabela, go home, now,” he demanded loudly with tears all over his puffy red cheeks. I was wondering what happened.
A few hours later Dad came home he was really mad he threw all his things to the floor and went up pounding the wooden stairs. I decided to follow him. 
“Dad, dad, dad what happened!” I said screaming my lungs out.
“Pane died” he said gently and slammed the door. I literally almost fainted, I stopped breathing, I quickly felt sick. I was in rage, furious with the entire world. I screamed for me to wake up from this nightmare, the alarm was not near on ringing, I was not sleeping and it was not a dream.
Black, what a color, a sad color. All my family were wearing black we hugged, it was a family hug we cried out rivers of tears all together. My little brothers did not know what was happening. They saw someone cry and they started to cry and stopped, then again and stopped that was the only minute of the day that was funny everything else was sad like the color black.
A honk, a loud honk as if it was from an old 1900’s car brought me back to the real life and to the funeral again. I looked out the church’s colored glass vitral window, I imagine an old car I couldn’t quite see it. It made me remember of the day he gave me the train. That was a very electrifying day for me, it was the day I received a special something from my grandpa.
“Heyyyy Isa” he said acting cool.
“Hi Pane” I answered annoyed.
“Can I show you something?” he asked excited.
“Yes” I said curiously.
We were heading to the miniature train station he had at home. My grandpa was a lover of cars and trains and a great collector of them. He had this cool miniature trains that you put them in the track and click a bunch of buttons as if you were a pilot in an airplane.
“Choo Choo” said my grandpa faking a train while giggling. I placed the train in the track, my grandpa was checking if the remote worked he clicked the start button and the train went crazy, the train moaned and groaned as it started down the track. It was so fast even the miniature tracks were on fire.
“STOP STOP” we both screamed to the train clicking all the buttons like we were about to crash into the wall. I closed my eyes, I was scared because if something happened to it was going to be my fault. I was so scared to break it until my grandpa grabbed it. He seemed very tired I was laughing, he started to laugh too. Like always Pane very nice, he gave me the train.
“Thank you Pane, bye see you tomorrow” I said thankfully jumping up and down with my new toy.
“Byeee” he said happily with a smile two meters wide, waving his hand side to side.
My mom squeezed my hand really tight cracking my bones back to reality, my grandpa could not come back, it was the hard and cold truth.  I stared at the big wooden casket; there was a loud, heavy breathing coming out of my mouth as if there was nothing left inside of me. There was a screaming and loud pounding inside my head. Those moments when your head is blank but yet you are thinking about everything, those moments of frustration, I was unsure what was happening. Just facing the fact that losing someone really close to you, it’s just like losing a part of you, that’s how I felt when my grandpa passed away. Alone, lost, cold, fading away like paper, feeling pain all over me, like a nightmare. A nightmare I could not wake up from.