We always wish to do something for others, which helps them ease the pain or improve their lives a bit. When we fail to do so, perhaps because of your financial situation or access to things, it will haunt you, especially when the person has passed away.
I love my maternal grandmother. I don’t know anyone; I never met anyone like her, who was so compassionate and selfless. When you see her actions, you wonder how someone can be this loving and egoless.
My father passed away when I was 6 years old. My grandmother stood by our side. My sister and I were sent to a boarding school. It was my first time being away from my family. I felt like hell. I used to feel why I am here. But my grandmother used to visit us every Sunday, bring us food and gossip, and leave us waiting for next Sunday.
Life was hard. At least she was there. During festivals, she would take us home, shove delicious food at us, and take us to places. I used to cry when I was returning to school. She would cry along with us. With a heavy heart, she would say bye.
Things improved later. My family was united a year later. Emotionally, it was less tiring. Grief stayed, however. But we would still wait for my grandmother’s presence for every summer or festival holiday. I would visit her home; we would go to parks and eat samosas.
When I was 12 or 13 years old, I got to know that my grandmother had diabetes. I saw her taking medications and suffering through pain. I wanted to help the way I could. I wanted to gift her a wooden stress ball that has spikes not sharp enough to pierce the palm but spiky enough to improve her blood circulation.
I didn’t have money to buy the ball. I would think I would buy it soon. But soon never became immediate. It would be running in my mind, but I delayed and delayed until I heard some news. My grandmother met with an accident and was admitted into the hospital. She was on her deathbed.
I was an atheist by that time. But I prayed for her. Hoping she would get back to normal. A little later, she was surrendered to death, leaving us all. Her loss made a deep void in my life. None like her ever existed or will.
To this day, I feel I should have given her that wooden stress ball. I don’t know whether the situation would be different or not. But I wanted her to know her grandson thinks of and cares for her. She will never know; it is what pains me the most.
Leave a Reply