Disappearances...

Note: This is my reflection on my grandpa and how his death affected me. Since graduation is so near, there has been a rush of memories that have come back to me in these past few days. Through this I realized how important it is to appreciate each person and each moment in your life. I wish my grandpa was here to see my graduation, he would be so happy. But I know he will always be with me now, closer than ever before. :)

Today, as the morning gleamed through my kitchen windows, I stood in emptiness. From 7 family members, we’ve come down to 6, and everything has changed. I miss my Grandpa. I remember his sweet nicknames, his adorable toothless smile that greeted me each afternoon I walked through my house door after a tiring school day. He would peek from his small room and grin. He was just happy. Happy that I was his granddaughter, happy to see me, happy to be so close to his family. I was so tired, so frustrated that I would roll my eyes and storm up to my room to have some much awaited alone time. It’s all different now. The hustle bustle of this once lively house has died along with the one man that would spend all his time in one room. How strange, how ironic. Slowly the busy mornings and loud conversations have ceased. And all that has remained is me, standing in an empty kitchen with 3 half-full cups of tea on a black granite counter.
It’s not just Ajoba’s loss that has turned this house into darkness. It’s Aaji’s stroke. Even the most annoying aspects of this house have vanished; it adds to the silence. I recall my friend’s words when she experienced a typical morning in my house one day in the past. “Wow! This is so fun, you come downstairs and everyone’s home!” I responded with a smirk and a flick of the eyebrow. Taking everything for granted was my forte.
No more prayer bells ringing as the sunlight spills into my room, no more music from Indian soap operas, and no more enthusiastic grandparents asking if I am hungry. I miss it now, but why couldn’t I appreciate it then? When it was worth remembering, when it was worth absorbing? I let it all slip right off the surface when it was time to hold on. I will never forgive myself for that.
I don’t talk about it much but I miss my grandpa. No one again will ever call me by that endearing nickname. I miss the love he showered on my brother and me, it was so beautiful. He doted on us like we were his angels, and I never turned around to say thank you to him, for being the best grandpa ever. Everyday before I left the house, he would stop me to ask: “Gollu, paishe aahet?” (Gollu, do you have enough money?). After a while that question became such a nuisance, I would answer “YES!” even before he had asked. “Kai pahije te ghe aa?” (buy whatever you want, okay?). If he could, he would have drenched my brother and me with all the money in his possession, just so we would have that temporary laughter on our lips and glimmer in our eyes. That’s what he lived for.
Until the day he died, Ajoba was always appreciative of his grandchildren. When he couldn’t talk, 2 days before, he smiled and pointed. We knew we were his happiness, his life, his every breath, his heartbeat. I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you sooner Ajoba, that you are the world to me. Without you, I wouldn’t be half the person I am today. Without your love, I would be nowhere. I love you, I miss you, and I always will.

Rest in peace. <3