Immortal

Photo by Thomas Kinto, Unsplash

Dear Grandma Eraydes,

I hope this letter finds you well.

Before I was even a speck of a person, you were already there. Your love and your very existence—more than anyone’s—are what brought me here. If fate hadn’t put you in the same hospital as that poor, sick boy, I wouldn’t be here. Thank you for choosing to love my father and, as a consequence, for accepting and loving me, too.

Love isn’t limited to blood ties. You made me believe in that pure love—the love we choose. Deep down, all love is that, isn’t it? A choice. You chose Grandpa for seventy years, just as he chose you. And I chose you as my grandmother, just as you chose me as your granddaughter.

I’m deeply grateful for your lessons, even the ones that didn’t need words—only observation. And I saw you—even shy, even quiet, I always saw you as immense. I remember being little, sitting on your lap and resting against your skin, already marked by time. I remember every time you showed me affection and started conversations with me, even when I felt out of place.

Even after so much hurt, after years without seeing each other, you welcomed me into your lap once more, with the same love and tenderness as when I was a child. You remembered my name, you remembered me, and you saw me as a human being long before I could see myself that way.

Thank you for being such a sweet grandmother and for staying strong through everything. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I was wrong to think you might not even remember me, with so many people in the family—but you did. You always did.

You are one of those people who were always there, even from afar, even without saying a word—your presence was gentle and comforting. One of those people who seem immortal, who, because they were always there, will always be there. And I was right in that sense: you will always be here, even far away, even without saying a word. I still see you.

With love, from your eternal granddaughter,

Eduarda Lodi de Oliveira