My Ba

This last couple of weeks has just been exhausting for me. But when I look at my Ba (grandma, in the picture, top-centre), I see a spirit in life that has a will to live, that far exceeds my current capacity for pain. She is in physical pain. I have tears form in my eyes when I see her so fickle. I wonder what she thinks of when she sleeps? I see the degradation in her face. She looks exhausted. I just want peace for her.

She can not move about by herself, at all. She looks embarrassed that she needs to lean of her children and grandchildren to take care of her. Stale hospital walls, treatments that are not helping her. Though we know there is no need for her to feel shame, I know she does.

I am afraid of death. The idea of loosing anyone close to me, haunts me so deeply. I have never been faced with death of anyone close. I was a child when my other grandparents passed.

I am scared.
My life seems like a messy paradox, masked within the wisdom of teachings. I grieve from the pain of the loss of a very alive love.

Ba, I hope lays in her bed, reflecting on the pride she has for her children, all the battles she had to fight while caring for her family and being expelled from Africa. How she found faith in a world that had rejected her and her family of 9 children and how she managed to be a widow of 35 years, and still maintain the peace for decades. All the pain and suffering: she SURVIVED. The loves she has, the loves that she has lost. Watching all her friends die, as she outlives almost all of them.

I only hope she is happy with her accomplishements, that she feels fulfilled by the life that she led. All seems to come full circle, to me her granddaughter. "In the blink of an eye, everything could change. Say hello to the life, now you're living." Just hold on.

I wonder if she is lonely. I hope she can feel the love I have for her, even right now when I feel impaired. I know I will break real soon. I crawl back into my crab shell and reflect.

How can I say goodbye to the woman I remember walking to the fish and chips shop with in Britain, when I was a child? I was always her favourite then. Everyone knew. She would always buy me chips, as I did not eat meat then. I would climb on her lap and touch the mole on her face. Feel her round face and shower her with sweet kisses. I would always ask her to wear my favourite sari of hers, the "spider sari." She would.

Please respect your elders. They are wise about love, life, survival and contentment. They have experienced far more pain then we can even process. I always remember Ba as a powerful woman, gossiping on the phone, doing bajer (rubbing tobacco on her teeth!), the overwhelming pride she has on her face when she talks about her children and grandchildren, to anyone who listened. Ba is more popular then I will ever be! She does not miss anything. She is sharp like a pocket knife. I will always remember her in these high spirits.

Now, please let her go somewhere quiet, without the sounds of machines, or cold nurses pricking her. Everytime I leave, I wonder if I will ever see her eyes open again.

Sweet love, bitter sorrow. I know it is just a matter of time before I have to say goodbye.

So many goodbyes.