In this post, I continue the story in which I explain my journey to break 5 minutes in the mile. If you missed it, Part 1 of the story can be found here.
My grandpa, John Bravo, was a great man. He loved his life and his family. He had six wonderful children and seven awesome grandchildren. He loved every single one of us. We each had some quality about us that he loved so much. My grandpa was so interested in things such as my sister’s skill at softball, my cousin John’s knowledge of politics, and my cousin Kristan’s love of soccer. My grandpa loved my running. Every time I went to see him at his house, we would have long talks about my training and upcoming races. He just couldn’t get enough of my talent. I will never forget the times when he would come to my races.
It was in 7th grade when he came to see me run for the first time. I was running the 3000 meter race, which was 7 ½ times around the track. He sure did have a lot of time to cheer me on. Every lap I remember passing by him as he sat in his lawn chair just beyond lane six. With each encouraging phrase he shouted, I ran harder. I won that race, and he was so proud. For the rest of the 7th grade spring track season, he came to as many races as he could. That year was the last time he came to see me run. As he aged, he struggled to walk, and he was unable to attend any more of my meets. He would sit by the phone and wait for my phone call so I could let him know how I did. For the 8th, 9th, and beginning of 10th grade track seasons, I spoke to him about my races until he was admitted to the hospital.
I was absolutely crushed because my grandpa had a breathing tube down his throat, and he was unable to talk to anyone. My mom and her five brothers would go visit him as often as they could.
My grandma was the strongest of them all. She was with him for every moment of his illness. She loved him so much. My grandpa was not doing well at all. He was unable to breathe or eat food. He needed tubes to do both things for him. My mom later told me that I needed to go to the store to buy new dress pants and a new dress shirt. We didn’t think he had much time left. I’ll never forget the feeling as I shopped for those clothes. I struggled to pick up the hangers and bring them to the counter. I wasn’t ready for my grandpa to leave. I just couldn’t believe that this was happening.
It was now Christmas Eve. The holiday season was always such a happy time because I was able to spend it with my wonderful family. Every year we would go to my Mema and Grandpa’s house, but that was not possible this year. We spent our Christmas Eve at home with only one thought in our head, please, just let him live. The next morning I woke up and opened gifts with sadness. It was not the usual happy Christmas. The atmosphere was nothing like Christmas morning should have been. It was then time to go to the hospital to wish my family Merry Christmas. This was the first time I went to the hospital. My Mom didn’t want me to go because she thought I would get too upset. At the hospital, we said our hellos in the waiting room. Everyone was so sad. My sister then asked my Mom if she could go in and see Grandpa. My Mom said, “I really don’t think you should, Laura. He’s not doing well.”
“No, Mom, I want to; it’s Christmas.”
“I really don’t want you to.”
“Please.”
“Alright, it’s up to you.”
I watched Laura walk down that hallway and waited for about three minutes. I looked up and saw my sister crying as she walked towards me. She was absolutely devastated. I never saw him, but I knew that he must have been struggling for his life. I hugged my sister and said, “Everything’s going to be alright.” We left and spent the rest of the evening just praying for my Grandpa.
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