I was skeptical and overwhelmed when the first thought this article stroke my mind. I have no knowledge, no perspective to comprehend the feelings of elderly people. This is just an attempt to express the emotions that I share with my great grandmother.
Most of you would have already gone to a mind-set of how this article is gonna be, an affectionate, lovable figures of expressions of her pampering me. It is not so.
Long story short: I was a notorious boy then, she use care for me, sometimes beat me, scold me other times flatter me with kindness and kisses. A lady I would never break up with.
Thinking of her smiling at me, her face fades away. A glimpse of happiness and affection, hearts entangled. She cares for me I know that. She care for everyone around. When I get up early in the morning to go to school she is awake, right there in the kitchen already cooking breakfast. When I go to bed, she comforts me and waits for my mom to return from work. She is the wonder woman of our family.
Tales that she had shared with me about her past brought me tears. Things that she went through to educate her son, moments she sacrificed for family really breaks my heart. Probably the smartest great grandma anyone would witness. Committed to her duties. This is not a eulogy, it’s not the time yet. This is a paean. A praise.
Her work is intangible, and I stand here as the result of her work. What would I be now if she hadn’t been in my life? I couldn’t imagine. She raised my grandpa, her only son, all by herself her husband died at an early age. Being single parent would have been tough. Yet, she did it and did it with pride!
Her duty didn’t end there. She took care of the house when my grandpa is out to work. She raised her grandchildren, my uncle and mom, with her daughter in law. She raised me. A mother, a grandmother and a great grandmother her role changes yet her love and dedication remains the same.
I respect her wisdom, esteem and the life experience she persists. I believe life as taken from her all that she had inherited but gave her what she had earned.
She is 93 now. Her skin shrunk, bones weak, hair grey as time passes but wit never changed.
She fell down this morning in the bathroom and fractured her back. She couldn’t move and screamed for help, first time in her life. I heard her voice shivered and frightened. Four hours passed in no time. I had to carry her all the way to the bed room. We had her lying on the bed. Mourning in pain, tears in her eyes, she starred into mine. I broke.