An ode to my grandfather
Two years ago, a loss so profound happened, that the fabric of my existence became tangled.
Each thread I held bare, fragile and naked.
Day 1: A pleasant day. A big family union. Vibrating laughter.
A closed door.
I peep in to see my grandfather asleep.
Space beside him.
I move with a sudden instinct to snuggle, my name echoes. A voice from behind demanding no disturbance. I walk out.
Day 8: A warm sunny day
A lazy voice on my end. Fraught on the other end. “Grandfather isn’t breathing”.
Space inside me.
Thunder and rain followed soon. I can’t recollect if this extreme weather was above or in me. The memory of that day, after two long years, remains seemingly on edge, suspended between worlds that my grandfather and I now inherit.
My grandfather was consistent among all the volatility. He was a bridge between hope and reality. He stood grounded and humbler than anyone I have ever met. He was like an oak tree in the garden; bespoke of resistance, morale, strength and knowledge.
So, you see, when I say my heart crumbled, I am not overstating. For what I understood, it’s the adults that need adults more. A child loves and loses in innocence. We, adults, become pragmatic in love. We become aware of the urgency of time and action.
Time moved slowly. I couldn’t place the loss in terms of how I failed to do more for him or how the terribly ordinary Gods have failed him by taking away so much happiness & moments forthcoming.
Most nights felt like my eyes turned inward and stared into the void inside. Most mornings felt like the thought structures in my mind collapsed and benumbed. Each day, I tried hard to place a finger on the pain point and fix it, but then soon enough chasms even wider & deeper would open. The pain kept moving into gaps I knew not existed.
The intricacies of the human heart and mind rendered me palsied.
So, I took each thread, cured with delight and weaved.
Life is long and rumpled.
But I have loved and healed.
That day became the beginning of the journey I title, ‘Evolution of thy self’. I gathered all the memories and lessons he has ever taught me. I treasured all his love and kindness inside me. I synced the grief, I marched to the rhythm of growth and learning. I found avenues to heal.
I learnt that the human self and conscience is like an ever-flowing river. So many things cross its path, but you feel them without judgement and move on. Like the river, you help and save all you can. Like the river, you bring life and happiness wherever you can. Most importantly, you care for yourself and others.
Death; has taught me acceptance. Any loss, big or small, creates a space we fall into and stay. We scowl, we cry. But then it’s merely human to wake up and see that this space inside us is recyclable. In doing so, we realise that so many emotions, thought patterns, sentiments and beliefs await rebirthing.