I made this comic some months ago after returning from a trip to our village. And I made it with such an urgency as if my life depended on it - in the middle of sister’s wedding preparations. I cried all the way of putting this beating thing out of myself.
I did not find my grandmother the same way she found me, during different points in life. She found me mostly lost and absorbed in my work. I found her waiting for us to visit village and stay one more day, just one more day.
Despite having grown very old, she insisted to do some or any household tasks she could.
On one visit, I remember her repairing a torn pair of socks for herself. During the cold months, our village is especially colder. And I am sure on many cold nights, she must have been so cold and thought about her children living far away, and the grandchildren who visit once in a long while.
She was also a caregiver to her disabled son, one of my uncles, even during her old age she would take care of him.
When she died, we reached village home in the early morning hours to find her there just some hours away from cremation. I sat next to her, held her hand and it was the last time I got to hold her or touch her. Be in her presence. The entire family was there, weeping and crying.
I was on heavy medications, and was not able to stay awake for long. I fell asleep in the midst of it and woke up to find her being carried after being bathed and dressed in new clothes before being taken for cremation. Everyone was in so much pain. I felt a mix of grief and guilt. That even in death, I couldn't be present for her for long.
I look for her. I find her in memories of childhood.
I imagine going back and being there by my grandmother.
Your message brought back memories of my own loss💔. The pain of helplessly watching them age never fully fades. People say we're fortunate to have experienced such deep love, and I completely agree, but it will always carry that bittersweet weight.