Grandmother•دادو

Reminiscing

I thought of her and her beautiful smile. A smile that would brighten the whole room and bring joy to those beside her. I thought of her talk and the stories of her youth. I remember her laugh whenever she would remind my dad about his silly games or school years. I remember the warm days of summer when she used to push me in my stroller to the park and cut apples as I came to rest after playing around for hours. But, I also remember the day I stopped feeling the warmth of her touch and the silence of her heartbeat. Today, her bright smile cannot illuminate the room nor can the captivating stories be told without tears dripping on lively cheeks.

I will always treasure the moment when I kissed her cold forehead for the last time before she drifted away from the comfort of our home to the calmness of the earth.

The above is a piece I wrote in 2014 when my grandmother passed away. I still remember and I will always remember, because I don’t think I will ever be able to forget. I will never be able to forget the moment I heard my dad lower his voice when he received a call about her death. I will never forget how he quietly informed us about dado’s death. And how we all began to weep the moment these words were spoken. I will never be able to forget the drive to my aunt’s house, where dado’s body was lying lifeless. I will always remember my dad’s words comforting us. I will always remember his strength when he reassured his children about his own mother’s death. And, I will always remember and cherish the moment I kissed her cold forehead for the last time.

I don’t know how to describe my relationship with dado. It was unique. It was different. It was not an ordinary relationship. But it was definitely special. She was a very quiet person. She would quietly enter the family room, silently watch television with the family, and then leave without a sound. She was also the last person to go to bed. Dado had a specific night routine that she followed religiously without skipping a single habit. I don’t think I will ever be able to forget these details about her life. Ever since she passed away, I have been holding on to these memories. Constantly remembering her laugh, her words, and her habits. I would lie if I said I think about her every day, but I would also lie if I said that I don’t often think about her. It seems that if I stop remembering dado, she will be forgotten, forever.

I have regrets. Several. Because when someone dies, we hope and wish we could have done more. I also wish I could have spent more time with dado. To love her more. To show her affection. To listen to her. To talk to her often. To sit with her daily. I didn’t do enough. I became accustomed to her presence because I saw her every day at home. She was part of the household. She was just like my dad, mom, and siblings. I see them daily and when you live and are surrounded by the same people, you don’t think about losing them. You don’t think about sitting down with them with the thought that one day they will be gone, because you are aware that you when go to sleep, you will wake up to their presence. We forget about death. We don’t want to think about death.

Dado passed away in March of 2014. It was a Monday. I didn’t visit her that weekend because I had an exam the following day and decided to stay home and not go to my aunt’s house. I knew this was a wrong decision. I knew I had to visit her because for some reason I had a strong feeling that something was going to happen. It did. She passed away. I wasn’t able to feel her warm body for the last time. I wasn’t able to touch her for the last time when she was still alive.

Her death was expected. We were all aware that she was going to pass away soon. It began when she stopped doing her daily routine. She stopped taking her medication. Then she stopped walking and only sat on her bed. Slowly, she became much more quiet. Then, she would always lay on her bed and after a few weeks, she would always be asleep every time we visited her. She passed away in her sleep. She was blessed to die in ease and in the comfort of her daughter’s home.

Her death was difficult, but we all knew that she was in a good place. I felt it. I still feel it. Still, I cannot stop thinking about her. I cannot stop thinking about death ever since she passed away. Every time I think of her, I think of death. How did it happen, how did she feel, how is she doing, what is happening to her now six feet beneath the earth?

To be honest, I never thought about death until dado left. I never knew how it felt to lose someone who was once so close to you. Someone who was once part of your life. Someone who I grew up around was no more. I never knew how it felt, and when I did, it was very painful. She was in my life, she lived with us until I was 16 years old, then she moved to my aunt’s house.

Even when she moved, every single weekend of these three years, my dad and my siblings would visit her. Every single weekend. It felt like she was still living at home because I still saw her often. Yet, when she left our house, the way I perceived her changed. Our relationship changed. I respected her more. I valued her more than ever. Maybe it was maturity or maybe it was the realization about the importance and value of relationships and people when they are not part of your everyday life anymore.

When I think of her, I think about death. I think about how much death causes pain to those who are still alive. Dado is the first person in my life who passed away. I have seen death before. I attended several funerals. Still, dado’s death was different. She was someone who I grew up around and someone who I saw and interacted with on a daily. Her death was different. Her death felt different. Maybe when I think about her, I think about the pain death brings upon people who loved, interacted with, connected with, and lived with the person who is no longer alive. I began this blog with a post about dado’s death because I wanted to provide a space for my thoughts about her. I wanted to give words to the thoughts trapped in my mind ever since she passed away.