Grandma’s kids are lined up to visit over the next few months, each staying with her a few weeks at a time. An uncle flew in a few days before my dad and I left, and another aunt has arrived since.
Grandma says the house will be empty when my uncle leaves, completely forgetting that my aunt who’s already there has given up her life to be with her indefinitely. We joke that she’s just another maid to grandma now. Her memory remains patchy; sometimes she’s lucid, sometimes she’s lost.
I wonder if she’ll even remember if I was here.
Leaving was hard. My aunt hugged me long, told me she’d miss me through the lump in her throat, and promptly went to the bedroom to compose herself. Knowing it was the last time I was going to see her, I hugged and kissed my grandma as much as I could. It was an effort not to cry. Even the maid wiped a tear from her eye with the back of her hand, but none of the other men did, and I wonder if they would have, had they not been in the presence of other men.
As we were leaving, she handed me a red envelope, and told us to visit her again soon. It was a relief to know that she’s still unconscious of her terminal condition, but the reminder that I would never see her again broke my heart.
What a strange feeling it is to know that she’s still alive on the other side of the world, while I’m here, unable to be with her. For now, I’m happy and relieved that I had the chance to express myself to her, and film her, and capture her image.
You are a lucky man, you got to say goodbye. Something many of us wish we could do. Keep your memories close, for they will be your comfort.
The major casualty of a global community — it’s just so much farther apart than it was.…
Hugs. You did your best.
Hard time. Good that you went when you did and could be in a position to spend that much time. Hope she fares well or better than can expected for the next while.