I lost my grandmother a month ago. Last year in May, my mother brought her to our place like she had always been doing. My grandmother lived with my uncle and she used to come with us every year and spent the summer with us. For quite some time, she had been complaining about a pain in her throat and a persistent cough. Usually my mother used to visit her 4-5 times a year, but this time she had a lot of workload at her school, so she couldn’t go to my Nani (we call our grandma ‘Nani’). So this time, she took a 2-day leave and Nani came with her. By this time, her pain had become persistent. So my Mum and Dad took her to a doctor, who told them that she might have developed a cancer in her throat. Everyone was shocked. So we decided to take a second opinion. This time it was revealed that there was an enlargement in the lymph node near her throat. Although nobody really named it, it was indeed a cancer that had developed.

It was heartbreaking. We didn’t tell Nani anything about it. We just told her that there was a bruise in her throat because of the persistent cough she was having. My Mum had now decided that no matter what what, she will save her mother. She took her to best hospital in the country where they told us that Nani will have to undergo various radiotherapy sessions. My mother nursed her with all her heart. We have seen days when Nani couldn’t even drink a single drop of water because blisters had developed in her mouth and throat as a result of side-effects of the therapy sessions. But we never left her alone and talked her out of her pains. My mum used to wake up all night, to put water in her mouth or to take her to the bathroom. There were very few days when my Nani had slept soundly at night. Sometimes, she refused to eat food and take her medicines. But all of us were there to convince her. On days when she was better, she used to talk to us a lot. She loved to talk to me and my sister as she loved children (well, for her we were children). She could talk to us for hours. I have recorded a few conversations with her. She had a very strong voice. But lately, it had been changing. Slowly, days were passing and her therapy sessions were coming to an end. And by God’s grace, she was now able to eat without much problem. The pain was also lessened. We were happy that she won’t have to suffer anymore. In the end session, it was reported that her cancer had been destroyed, but the hospital had asked us to come after a month for a checkup. It was 23th November when my mum took her to take the last session. Nani was very happy. From now on, there was no excruciating pain to bother her and she could sleep peacefully.
But then something happened. Because of the therapy, Nani’s immunity was decreasing. Although she wasn’t bedridden, she was becoming weaker day by day. And just before a few days we had to take her back to the hospital, She developed a congestion in her throat because of which she wasn’t able to breath properly. On 22nd December, we admitted her to a nearby hospital. It was discovered that she had caught pneumonia and within 4 days, she passed away. On 26th of December, 2:55 a.m.
I was sleeping when my aunt came to our room and said, “Nani nahi rahi (Nani is no more)”. I had my eyes closed although I was awake. I heard my sister say, “Please Mami, don’t say this”. And then I heard my Mother cry. That’s when the reality hit me. My mum told me that Dad had just called from the hospital and told this. At that time, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not even console my mother or my sister. It was the most difficult moment of my life. I had lost my dearest, dearest Nani. She was stolen from us. All the tears in this world are less to mourn for her. I couldn’t stop crying. Nobody could.

There are a lot other things that followed this moment. But words are not enough to describe the pain that all of us felt. That I felt. It has been more than a month. When they took her for the cremation, I felt a certain weight lifting off my heart. Then the entire procedure seemed to be mechanical. I even saw her body burning. It was, in a strange sort of way, peaceful. But the loss hasn’t yet found it’s substitute. Every single day she comes in my mind. The truth that she is no more is evading me. My mother too. Although we have painted the room a bright green, the memories still lurk behind our eyes. It’s the little things that are the saddest. Everyday I remember the time when I used to sit beside her, and hold her soft hands. She used to ask me if she would recover from her sickness. I used to tell her that of course, she’ll be fine as before. She has bestowed on us so many blessings that even a lifetime will be less for them. Every single time we sat beside her, she used to bless us. She was always smiling. That smiling face is still etched in my mind. It always will be. I wish I could hug her for one last time and hold her hands. Some days I feel that God is unfair. Then we try to convince each other that for our own selfishness, we can’t blame God. At least Nani didn’t have to suffer much. But not everything in life is resolved by justifications. That is why we say time will heal everything.
Everyday I put up a brave front so that my mother doesn’t break. She did everything in her power to save Nani. She sometimes blames herself that she wasn’t alert enough to save her from a disease as trivial as a simple pneumonia. Me, my sister and my dad try to convince her that she did everything she could. She says that while she was nursing Nani, she prayed to God that Nani shouldn’t suffer any pain and should be able to eat. She had never imagined that Nani would be snatched away from her.
It’s very difficult to move on, but we have to. Today I just felt like expressing what I was bottling up inside me. There is so much more that I want to write but I don’t know if I will be able to do any justice to the feelings that I have. Maybe next time.