Originally published on MONDAY, OCTOBER 3, 2016
It has been a year since my grandma passed away. Losing her was one of the hardest things I had to do, and it took me several months to come to terms with that.
I remember those drastic and depressing first few weeks after she passed. Fall 2015 was one of the most stressful semesters because, on top of overloading with six classes and having two jobs, I was also preparing for my graduate school applications and a conference paper. My life hit a low point after she passed because then, every day was a struggle.
I was in classes, I was working, but I was miserable. I couldn’t concentrate. All I could think about was her, and the times she took me to local markets and the times we ate in those little shops. I even recalled one of our funny moments when a lizard fell from the ceiling into her bowl of soup, and I jumped out of my seat. People around us were laughing, and I stopped eating even though my bowl was fine. She was also laughing, and I could see a gap in her teeth. The lizard got out of the bowl and survived, but what happened afterward had blurred in my memory.
Because she was always there in my life, I assumed that she would always be. She was there to take my side in my little quarrels with my mom. She was there to send me off when I ventured on my journey to study abroad. She was there spiritually with me by praying day after day when I was taking exams or traveling. She would take care of me, and pet my forehead when I was sick. She was the most generous person that I know of, and someone I could go to and tell a lot of things.
When I got into graduate schools, I wanted to run and tell her. She would beam with pride and joy. I wanted to tell her about my experiences here, how it snowed heavily, how my clothes were overly layered when I went to classes and how nice the people here were. I also wanted to tell her how much I craved that biryani rice with chicken and lat phat yay. I had more stories about my friends and fun projects we were working on, especially the one where I was acting as a male character with a mustache. Oh, she would have laughed heartily if she saw that video. She was always enthusiastic to listen to my chatty stories.
Now, she only exists in my memory. It is still hard to believe that she is no longer here. At first, I imagined it was only a nightmare. I had to read the same texts for several days to get that in my head. Eventually, it dawned on me that she wouldn’t be there in her bedroom when I go back to my country. Her room would be empty.
I went back in 2016 June. It was like I imagined. Her room was empty, and I saw some of her pictures taped on the mirror. She also had my picture. The room was overwhelming, and my two little cousins were peeking as I sobbed quietly in the corner of her room. Lin Lin, who used to nurse my grandma, got me some water, and she knowingly didn’t ask or say anything.
Now, I comfort myself with her teaching. Nothing lasts forever, and I must learn to accept that. (Easier said than done.) But like a friend of mine said, there will always be an empty hole in my heart.
In loving memory of my grandma who passed away on Oct 18, 2015.