Let's take a trip down memory lane is a cliché that is overused, but that is exactly what we're about to do right now--so buckle in.
I'm going to get real personal on here, which, hasn't always been easy for me to do.
Prabh and I are almost 4 years apart...well 3 years and 11 months to be exact. Her birth was the best thing to happen to me in my tiny 4 years of existence because I finally had someone to play with! It's interesting that from day one, me and her have been best friends.
When I think back to my childhood, it is often filled with memories of little adventures that me and my sisters would go on. I picture the grass being a brighter green and the sun shining differently. The world in those times is pictured in a different tone altogether. I remember climbing trees and jumping off of them. I remember rollerblading and riding bikes, coming down our neighbourhood hill as fast as possible. But most of all I remember my grandparents.
My childhood is my grandparents. Of course my parents were also a part of our childhoods, but due to particular circumstances, my dad having a serious illness and my mother, due to these circumstances, having to work and study twice as hard, a lot of our childhood was spent with our grandparents (my paternal side), which was made easier by the fact that they lived with us.
I remember learning quite a lot of things from my grandfather. He taught me how to ride my bike and tell the time. I even learned how to do a braid by practicing on his beard. I remember how much my grandfather would miss us when we would go away on trips. I remember standing on his shoulders and jumping off, over and over again. I remember whenever I was unwell, how he would make me a cup of tea and toast in the middle of the night. I remember walking down the same dirt path with him in Punjab India as a 22 year old, as when I was a toddler and had just learned to take my first steps.
I also remember all the little things about my grandmother as well and all the life skills that she taught me without realizing it. I remember her taking care of me, especially when I was down with a fever. I remember her making meals especially for me right when I would get home from school. I remember my baking sessions with her. We even shared a love of plants. I remember thinking that she was one of the strongest women I knew and honestly she is probably the strongest I will ever know.
It's strange but when you add up all these little things, you realize what has moulded you into who you are today. My soul was nourished by my grandparents: their stories, their love, their presence, their teachings and everyday I miss them. In the last 5 years I have lost both of them and it has been the hardest thing ever. As in for the first few years I wasn't even able to look at photos of them. In fact I still have trouble looking at photographs of them. But I'm getting better.
Their passing away felt like a nail in the coffin of my childhood. A piece of me died with them. It's strange but since I had lived with my grandparents from the time I was born up until my mid-twenties, I didn't know life without them. They were always there and I didn't really know death before their passing. I always felt that they were invincible and couldn't imagine that they could die, or would die. I never really thought about how it would be after their death.
I owe a lot of who I am today to them and that is why when I wrote my dissertation I dedicated it to them.
This was an extremely difficult post for me to write and share, but Im glad I was able to get through it and share it with all of you.