I used to think my grandmother didn't love me. She liked my cousins more and I could tell she liked my little sister, who didn't talk much. My grandmother is a tough-lover. She doesn't show affection easily. Her way of "loving us" is feeding us. She wouldn't nag and say, "Oh please eat," rather she'd say, "The food is good (because she cooked it)," to entice us.
When I was in high school I yelled at her once. I still regret that til this day. This particular incident was an argument between my parents. She listened, but as usual, didn't butt-in. I on the other hand expected her to say something and say what was right. If that day she was planning on doing it, I didn't give her the chance. Rather I said some mean things. I was frustrated. She never brought it up again. I didn't think she cared.
About two years ago I discovered an album at my parent's house. It had pictures of all my grandmother's grandchildren, including my 6th grade school picture. She carried the album in her bag. I was shocked! She did love me after all.
Last year my grandmother decided to go to Bangladesh all of a sudden. She loves her country. The whole family tried to talk her out of it. She wouldn't listen. That's how she is; she does what she puts her mind to. Our family gathered like a magnet at my youngest uncle's house, with whom she lives. As the luggage were being weighed, and my grandmother napped we made jokes about her.
All of us talked late into the night. We shared giggles, and watched each other nearly doze off. We wondered if she wanted us all to go to the airport the next morning. My cousin and I tip-toed into her room to ask her. With my grandmother you never know what would please or displease her. "You ask her...no you ask her," we said back and forth. We were scared.
The next morning we exchanged looks. "What are you guys standing around for. Get in the car," my grandmother said. "I guess we are going," I said to my cousin.Things had changed for both of us. We were both in our second year of marriage (at the time) and it had been ages since the family stayed over and spent time together.
Everyone was thinking: what if this is the last time we'd see my grandmother. At the airport we took family pictures (my grandmother doesn't always take pics). My cousin and I escorted my grandmother to the bathroom. I held her arm. "Oh don't do that," grandmother said. "Why not? What will happen if I hold you?" I asked. "It doesn't feel comfortable," she said casually. I let out a loud laugh. Just a thing she would say.
We gently put her in a wheelchair, hugged her and bid her goodbye. And everyone went back to normal again.
When I was in high school I yelled at her once. I still regret that til this day. This particular incident was an argument between my parents. She listened, but as usual, didn't butt-in. I on the other hand expected her to say something and say what was right. If that day she was planning on doing it, I didn't give her the chance. Rather I said some mean things. I was frustrated. She never brought it up again. I didn't think she cared.
About two years ago I discovered an album at my parent's house. It had pictures of all my grandmother's grandchildren, including my 6th grade school picture. She carried the album in her bag. I was shocked! She did love me after all.
Last year my grandmother decided to go to Bangladesh all of a sudden. She loves her country. The whole family tried to talk her out of it. She wouldn't listen. That's how she is; she does what she puts her mind to. Our family gathered like a magnet at my youngest uncle's house, with whom she lives. As the luggage were being weighed, and my grandmother napped we made jokes about her.
All of us talked late into the night. We shared giggles, and watched each other nearly doze off. We wondered if she wanted us all to go to the airport the next morning. My cousin and I tip-toed into her room to ask her. With my grandmother you never know what would please or displease her. "You ask her...no you ask her," we said back and forth. We were scared.
The next morning we exchanged looks. "What are you guys standing around for. Get in the car," my grandmother said. "I guess we are going," I said to my cousin.Things had changed for both of us. We were both in our second year of marriage (at the time) and it had been ages since the family stayed over and spent time together.
Everyone was thinking: what if this is the last time we'd see my grandmother. At the airport we took family pictures (my grandmother doesn't always take pics). My cousin and I escorted my grandmother to the bathroom. I held her arm. "Oh don't do that," grandmother said. "Why not? What will happen if I hold you?" I asked. "It doesn't feel comfortable," she said casually. I let out a loud laugh. Just a thing she would say.
We gently put her in a wheelchair, hugged her and bid her goodbye. And everyone went back to normal again.
