Fare Thee Well Grandma

Just like other mortals, my heart sank when I received the news of my grandmother’s demise. I felt nauseate and angry at the same time. I can’t in essence explain why I felt angry considering the fact that I have always known at the back of mind that death is our destiny. But on this particular day, I lost all sense of objectivity and broke down. I didn’t know for sure whether I cried for the lost moments we never shared, for the fact that she will never again call me her husband as she fondly liked referring me to or simply to keep in tradition as so many other mortals have done since time immemorial. 

Nostalgic memories flooded my mind and I couldn’t help but feel angry and sad. Later, much later, when I had cooled down and cleared my mind of any ebbs of emotion and anger, I realized albeit too late how lucky she must have been. It suddenly occurred to me that most of the time we despise the old and discard all forms of knowledge they might be imparting on us.

Despising the old as I found out is a grave mistake that most of us commit. For the two decades I knew my grandmother, I knew only love and care; she came across as a very knowledgeable woman who took on life’s challenges with strength and courage akin to that of a devoted woman. Though many of us (the youth) compare old age with backwardness, I constantly found myself marveling at the vast knowledge my grandmother possessed. This apparently, made me have a change of heart in the way I regarded the old.

There are those of us (more so the youth) who believe there is little to be said in favor of the old. Old men and women they say belong to that Old Stone Age period where the essence of time has become constant and non existent. We constantly refer to the dot-com generation as the in thing, taking sadistic pleasure in turning old age onto our pet subject of ridicule. We believe that the old have nothing substantial to offer and should be consigned to a life of ridicule and solitude.

Most of the time, we believe that the future belong to us and the past to the old. This is a sound argument but what the youth are forgetting (me included) is that there is more to be said and learnt from the old. The ideas of the old may not be exactly what we want to hear. They may not be in line with modernity but then, were they not once modern? One thing I loved most about my grandmother is her tranquility, composure and sense of wisdom. What made me go into a state of panic and hysteria was seemingly ordinary to her.

She once told me that there are things that I cannot I appreciate about the old until I become old myself. As much as I wanted to brush her off, I could not help but appreciate her keen perception, the placidity of her emotions, the peculiarity of her sharp senses. Here was a woman who had amassed immense knowledge and gone through so many things in her life. She had navigated so many eddies and currents in her life. She had seen modernity become history, trends become ordinary and had witness the youth withering into oblivion. 

She always wondered aloud what we meant by “Dot Com” for as  she fondly put it to me, the youth is like a red rose that blooms and is so attractive to the eye but which eventually withers and dies. She always looked at the beauty of the young women, shaking their behinds as if life depended on it and wondered whether the holders understood its peculiar nature. She too, went through that period when life was so sweet and she once confided in me, it was too brief by half. The youth came and disappeared just like that. 

She became reborn into a total woman, embraced the virtue of patience, perseverance and wisdom. Old age as my grand mother taught me is a blessing and a destination that if we live long enough, all of us are destined to experience it.

All this memories occupied my mind and I realized why I was angry. I was angry because I could not figure out what she meant at that particular time. I was angry because I did not make efforts to learn more. I was angry because all that remained now were distant memories. I was angry because for a moment I wanted to be identified with many others of my age. But I thank God for the time and opportunity that she gave her to us. For the unique and quality moments we shared. It’s my hope and prayer that she has found peace wherever she went. I will always love you grandma and may your soul rest in peace. Till we meet again.