When my grandfather passed away, it didn’t quite sink in. For some reason, it just felt like he would just come and start talking or scolding us about our health. It seemed temporary. A few days later, we went to dadu-dadi’s home and I sat beside dadi. Dadu wasn’t there (now, he never would), but in my head, I just kept feeling that he was in the washroom. I could not accept the reality.
Later when I was reflecting, sitting idle, I realized what a vacuum my grandfather's passing away had created. Joint family photos will now be gloomy and of course incomplete. Family dinners would seem odd and sad too. He wouldn’t forward me videos from his friends' groups and I wouldn’t be giving thumbs-ups to them anymore. He wouldn’t call us and ask if billa and billi were doing fine.
His homely, close-circle family presence was now gone too. He would be worried about us even for things like a mere fever. That would get him to come running at 1:00 am and would make sure we were fine. He would discourage family arguments and accept people as who they were, even with their flaws. But most importantly, he would always be the base to neutralize anyone’s acidic behavior.
There is one more thought that is stuck with me, it is about his lifestyle. He would wake up at about 5:30 am, make tea for himself, read both Hindi and English newspapers, and go for his walk, getting milk on his way back. He would go about his day eating a perfect amount of everything and getting a perfect amount of sleep. His self-motivation was inspirational to us and naturally kept us in line too. It feels impossible to imagine life without him. But here we are having to live it.
Even though I spent only 12 years with him, they were my first twelve years which went with him nurturing me like a child of God. From candies to aloo paranthas, he never forgot my care. So, in the remembrance of his unconditional love, I will keep his sweater with me. It would symbolize his emotional presence despite his physical absence. I would always feel that he is with me.
