When I started this blog, there was a lack of focus. There was so much that I wanted to do and just one blog. But I’m the kind of person who likes to have a focus and that left me confused. I got busy and I slowly stopped posting. But this blog was always on my mind. “Which direction should I take with it,” I constantly thought. And then a few days back, I logged in and it was amazing to be back. There were so many friends that I had made here, so much I had said here, it was all so nice! And I saw the posts that made the happiest were the ones that were personal. That were about me. My life. And I more or less decided that’s how I wanted to proceed with this blog – make it a personal one. I however, gave myself a little more time to just be sure. On Friday, my grandmom passed away. For those of you who aren’t Indian, a lot of Indians stay with their parents. So I have always lived with my parents and grandparents. That’s been my family since the day I was born. And on Friday, my family as I have always known it to be, changed permanently on Friday. Grandmum has been sick for a while, so we saw it coming. Last few days were painful, and that makes all of us at peace with the death. We’re obviously devastated, but the fact that she isn’t in pain anymore, the kind of pain that couldn’t be cured makes us feel better. We KNOW she’s in a better place. But death still brings with it a huge amount of grief and I had to be strong for my family. Especially my grandad. I found myself with almost no outlet. Of course I have lovely friends who have have offered me unconditional support, including the boy, but I haven’t been able to put in words what has been going inside my head. I want to talk about her, speak up, remember memories. And here is where I turned to. My grandmum, for me was much more than just a grandmum. She was a friend, a sister (my sister passed away young and I’ve been an only child, but she was always there), my student when I wanted to play “teacher teacher”, my partner in crime and what not! She took a little food off my plate whenever my mom would force me to eat more, she would speak about her serials with me, she would teach me about fashion (she picked out the most gorgeous sarees) and fabrics, she would care for me when I was sick, and so much more. I know life goes on, but the thing breaking my heart is my grandad. He’s been strong until now. But we all know how much he misses her. To say he loved her dearly is a gross understatement. His life revolved around her. He never cared much for making money or materialistic things. His only goal in life was her happiness. If she would just as much say that she hasn’t eaten a particular food item in a while, he’d walk to the shop in blistering heat and get that for her. Every step that’s he took, every decision, was done keeping her in mind. He had lots of people who loved him, but none that matched up to the kind of bond he shared with grandmum. You could say he was emotionally dependent on her. He liked to do many things, but none that were his ultimate passions. Because that was only grandmum’s happiness. He saw it coming so he prepared himself and he’s been strong. But you can see it on his face. He gets lost into thoughts, quietly looks at the very many pictures he’s clicked of hers on his phone. and so many little things. Last night, I decided to sleep in his room. We don’t really want him sleeping in an empty room with his thoughts just yet. He hasn’t slept without grandmum by his side for much over 50 years now. And last night, he kept taking her name in his sleep. In the most loving manner ever. Calling her a queen. Telling her to go be happy. That broke my heart into infinite number of pieces. How is a man suppose to start a new life after building a lovely one with the woman of his dreams for over around 55 years. But that’s just the way it is. And thankfully, he knows its not going to be easy. He’s preparing himself. Their love was everything you read about in novels. They exchanged letters after the got engaged. He still has all of them kept safely. Once she sent him a rose. So when it was time to say goodbye, we had to shower her with roses. He let us in on what he was thinking at that time. “You gave me one. You take a hundred and go.” If you asked him how she was, he used to reply saying, “She is beautiful.” When she was sick and couldn’t really sit up by herself but still tried supporting herself with her arm, he told her that there was no need to take support fro her arm because he was her support. He’d click random pictures of her on her phone. They’d hold hands and walk. She’d call hims stupid and he’d hit his head in a funny way and tell her she knows everything and he doesn’t. They were just so in love! I know grandad will pull through. We’re there for him. But this is so incredibly hard. Not just for him, but for all of us. And now that I’ve poured my heart out, I know what I want this space to be. A piece of my heart. And to grandmom: You were amazing. You crisp and neat sarees with hair neatly tied back is something I’ll never forget. You meant so much to me that I’ll never be able to fully put it in words. I cannot believe you’re gone. These days seems surreal. I’ve grown up with you so it’s hard to comprehend the fact that you’re just not going to be around anymore. I often turn to your bed, and hold my hand out, hoping you’ll reach for it and grab it tight like you did. I’m turning to your things hoping I’d get the familiar smell that I associated with you so strongly. I want to see you, feeling your soft hand, just hold you again so badly. I know the death of your other grandchild, my sister, gave you unbelievable grief and it comforts me to know you’re up there with her. It’s been a long wait for you. I love you. I know you’re watching over us. PS: I had once posted about her. Here’s a link.
So today I fell sick. Got a viral fever.
Grandmom: I knew it yesterday you were going to fall sick. Your throat seemed bad.
Me: But I have fever, not a bad throat.
Grandmom: No no, you have a bad throat.
Me: But I can feel it. My throat is not bad.
Grandmom: You can’t feel it, but I know it. Your throat is bad. I’m telling you.
I give up.