Dear Ita,

As I sit down to write this, my heart is heavy with love, gratitude, and a touch of sorrow, knowing time feels too short. But more than anything, I want to say thank you—for everything you were, everything you gave, and everything you meant to our family.

Thank you for always caring for my brother and I growing up. You were our safe place, our steady hand, and our warmest hug. You showed us what love looks like—not in words but in everyday things: the way you brushed our hair from our faces, the way you made sure we were fed and warm, the way you smiled even on the hard days.

You were our rock through the hardest and most challenging moments. I still remember how strong you stayed for our cousin and how fiercely you loved him until the very end. You carried that heartbreak with such grace. You are the most divine, selfless, gentle, caring, loving, and beautiful soul I have ever known.

You were so proudly Spanish and so beautifully Costa Rican. And your cooking—oh, Ita—your food wasn’t just food. It was joy. It was family. It was love served on every plate. You didn’t make meals; you made feasts. The smell of pancakes, egg-in-shell, and bacon on weekend mornings will stay with me forever. And I’ll never forget your mussels, argentinian flank steak, chicken and peppers, pasta egg salad, rice and potatoes, and homemade tortillas… they tasted like home.

Thank you for being my confidant when I felt alone. You never judged. You only listened—with your whole heart. You gave me a space to be me; that kind of love is rare.

Thank you for being there for my daughter and son. Just like you were with us, you gave them the warmth, the love, and the strength that only a grandmother like you could provide.

I’ll always cherish our little adventures—our dollar store trips, afternoons at Bowers Mansion, and camping with my uncle. Those memories are stitched into the fabric of who I am.

You were loved and respected by everyone blessed enough to know you. And you will never be forgotten.

I miss you so much already. I keep thinking about all the quiet, loving moments we shared — especially the nights when I couldn’t sleep or was feeling sick. You always knew just what to do. You would put on that soft rainforest music, with the gentle sounds of water and birds, and you’d sit beside me, tracing gentle circles on my back with your fingers. I can still remember how safe and warm I felt, like nothing bad could reach me as long as you were there. Your touch, your care, and the peaceful world you created for me — they were like a shield against every fear and pain. Thank you for every time you stayed with me through the night, for your patience, your love, and your endless comfort. I will carry those memories with me always, and when I close my eyes to rest, I will try to hear the rainforest again, and feel your hand on my back.

When you get to heaven, please say hello to Ramsey and Mama for me. And when you see them, I hope you feel peace, joy, and the same overwhelming love that you gave all of us here.

Please keep watching over our family. We still need you. And until it’s my time to see you again, I’ll carry your love with me—in every sunrise, in every meal shared, in every act of kindness.

I love you forever

From your Grandson; Garrett.