We all have a favorite set of grandparents. It’s just how it is. You become more familiar with either party based on who spent more time with you as a child, who treated you better, or who geniunuely loved and cared more for you. I personally loved my grandparents from my mom’s side and was more fond of them than the latter. As their first grand-daughter, I was spoiled and in every way possible. I was fortunate enough to live close by them and got to see them every single day. I loved them unconditionally, just like l know they loved me and even though I don’t see them now, I know they are both in a much better place.
My relationship with my other grandmother (father’s mom) is quite the opposite. She lives in a rural, remote area in Egypt and growing up, I only saw her once or twice a year when we went down to Egypt for the summer holidays. We never really had a close relationship; don’t get me wrong, I respect and appreciate her like no other, but its a distant kind of relationship and I didn’t think it would matter to her, after all she has another 20 grand-children and a favorite grandson anyway.
Days turned into years and we all know how life get can get super busy. The older I got, the less I visited; sometimes for as long as two years in a row. I got married and started a family of my own and spoke to her less and less. Sometimes I would even forget to call her and remember three month’s down the line that I hadn’t spoken to her in a while. It’s pretty embaressing to admit, but that’s how it has been.
I recently found out that my grandmother had suffered a stroke and is now unable to speak or move. She requires health care and help with everything around the clock. Devastated to learn this news, my Father travelled to Egypt to be by her side. The news fell heavy on my heart. I tried to remember the last time I saw her, or even spoke to her on the phone, but I couldn’t. It felt like I was trying too hard to fit some puzzle pieces together to make sense of my memories. I couldn’t remember anything. I couldn’t think of anything. I was ashamed of myself. I wanted to call her now to check on her, but what good would that bring when she can’t even talk.
I can’t travel to see her for work and many other commitments that I can’t get out of. All I have left is a very vague memory of what life used to be like when she was younger and well.
I don’t know if she will come out of this and it breaks my heart that I might lose her someday without seeing her or even telling her how sorry I am for all these years and that I love her and respect her always. But It’s already too late. The reason I posted this is because we all get caught up in our crazy lives and often forget the little things that matter. Well folks, I hate to say that I only learned after its happened to my grandma. Reality check: Life is too DAMN short.
Tell your parents and loved ones how grateful you are to have them instead of facing the ugly fact: death hurts those who endure it and bear with their losses.
That’s why I haven’t posted anything in a while. I hope you remember my grandmother in your prayers.