Sunday, November 29, 2009

The Sacrifice

Eid this year seemed to be a different one. It's been a long time since I visited my dearest grandmother - perhaps a month or so - due to school and stuffs. I told myself that my Grandma, of all people, would definitely understand. I know she'll miss me, but she'll understand.

We went to her place after Friday prayers and as I entered her room, she smiled before I could smile and as I walked towards her bed, I apologized for not dropping by as often as I used to. We hugged and kissed and I asked her how she was and we talked. Everything seemed normal. I secretly felt glad that she wasn't angry at me for not visiting her as often - as she normally would whenever a few days has passed since my last visit. She never fails to remember.

As we were talking, an aunt of mine came in and mentioned something about a couple of birds, pointing at the top corner of the room. I had no clue what she was talking about as there were obviously no birds there. That's when another aunt of mine told me that my grandmother said that she saw the birds - two brown ones who were supposedly the parents and a little grey one - birds that could not have existed.

My thinking mind ran a marathon in a couple of seconds and tears formed in my eyes. I hate it when I get overly affected by the thoughts that went through my mind. I thought about how fine she was the last time i visited, how she wish she could walk again and move her left hand, how she could be more useful and less of a burden, how I would tell her that she'll never be a burden and that the stroke was just a test of patience and faith. I recalled my childhood with her - stories about her carrying me in her arms when I had high fever one night when no one was home, how I used to always accompany her to the market and the first time I carried a 5kg sack of rice, the countless durian ice cream she buys for me, the countless mangoes she'd bought for knowing that it's my favourite, the times she forces me to pray, the times I sleepily accompanied her to the mosque for subuh prayers. I also remember that as a kid I'll always include in my prayers for my grandmother to live a long and healthy life - for her to see me get married.

And I wondered why, despite all this beautiful memories of my grandmother, I wasn't willing to sacrifice a couple of hours a week to be by her side and just to keep her company. I knew how happy it would make her whenever her grandchildren came to visit. And I knew too just how often us grandchildren would come to visit - not as often as I would like my grandchildren to. Yet, for some selfish reasons, I was being very selfish.

Remember that time waits for no one. After the two second marathon, I left her room. If I had stayed any longer, my mind would have ran a triathlon and the little tears in my eyes would have rolled down my cheeks. I guess someone must've told me that big boys don't cry.


cairo, lusaka, amsterdam said...

What a sweet post. Grandmothers are really special people. Why don't you set a time each week to visit her?

marzuki said...

I usually do but I guess sometimes we get too caught up with what we're doing that we forget everyone and everything else. Now that my exams are over, I'll definitely make up for lost time.