I remember she came over to visit the first day my uncle and aunt (chachu and chachi) had brought me home from the airport. I remember how she hugged me that day and till the end. She hugged me like she’d known me forever. You could tell she didn’t care about what I looked like, what I wore, my behaviour or anything. I was just a granddaughter to her from thereon. You know when you meet someone for the first time, you sort of hug sideways. I remember she didn’t do that with me. She just hugged me; a nice big “cuddle” (as they call it there).
I called her “Nani mummy” because that’s what I’d always called my mum’s mum (maternal grandma) as well. The more I experienced her presence and the more I learned about her, the more I wanted to be like her. She was a devoted wife and had been married to Nanu (material grandfather) forever. She was a birth mother to a daughter and 2 sons, one of whom had passed away in a tragic accident. She had felt one of the worst pains in life: losing a child. Nani mummy was open and honest about her depression through her grief process and acknowledged the lack of awareness back in the day. But regardless of this pain that most of us are unable to understand, Nani mummy was a happy soul. She wasn’t always sad or in despair. I remember the only time she cried about it was while watching an old family wedding video. Other than that, I can still remember her speaking of her son, her baby, happily. I think maybe the pain was always there but she chose to focus on keeping others happy. She chose to live.
She’s an example of someone who lived life. Life threw all these lemons at her and she’d literally made the best lemon cocktail and shared it with everyone. What a life to celebrate!
My chachu, who was her son-in-law, felt more like her son. I remember that chachi used to tease Nani mummy about “Nav being her favourite”. As chachu puts it beautifully: she is compassion. I saw her bond with her real grandchildren and it is #goals. It wasn’t about expensive presents or gifts; it was about conversations, spending “bonding-time” and building relationships through learning. Let’s say, the kids taught her the iPhone and she taught them life skills, including her compassion.
When I think of compassion and Nani mummy, I think of her putting people together, finding good in people, being there as a listener, being non-judgemental and open-minded, and love. Lots and lots of love.
From a time when I’d not really spoken much to her or gotten to know Nani mummy, she was there dancing with my mom, dad, chachu and chachi. Something so small, but something so important: little ways of putting families together.
She was never upset over little things. To be honest, I’d never heard her angry or upset over the entire 2 years that I was there. Literally, never complaining - always grateful. If you called her after too long and apologized for it, she would tell you “it’s okay, we shouldn’t bother about these things” and then you could have a wonderful conversation about whatever you wanted.
Unfortunate to say, I can’t still believe that our last hug in England was the last one ever. I love hugging and she has to be one of my favourite people to hug because she really hugged you back: chest to chest, heart to heart. It’s like her warmth was her love; she didn’t need to say “I love you” all the time. The comfort you felt sitting squeezed next to her - & oh, her soft skin. Her love was coming home to the bread pakore she remembered to make for my birthday, on top of the cake Nani mummy baked for me, without me ever asking for it. That’s what I learned from her. I wasn’t related to her at all but with her love, she created this unforgettable relation.
My favourite thing about Nani mummy was her ability to connect with anyone - no matter what age! She was religious but could still jam to Garry Sandhu. She was wise but could still take a Snapchat selfie. She could make a wonderful traditional Christmas dinner, in addition to saag and roti for the same night. In my opinion, she had just the right balance. A balance I inspire to achieve someday.
That last hug, it was in August last year as I was preparing my return to Canada. It was a summer evening and I’d walked her and Nanu to their car. I’d hugged her again and again because I didn’t know when it would happen next. Life feels really unpredictable. I didn’t expect and want that hug to be the last. Losing her actually does feel like a hole in the chest - this weird hollow feeling. Thinking about my memories with her brings tears and smiles. As much as I wanted to share some of my life’s beautiful experiences with her, I know the only way moving forward is with what I’ve learned from her. There’s a way to keep her as a part of my life that no one can interrupt. We can keep her alive in our heart by trying to live her legacy of compassion and spreading love to whoever we come across, the way she would.
I'm posting this here today to keep it as a part of my journey forever. I'd written it a while ago for myself as a way to get feelings off of my chest but now I feel like we can all be inspired by my nani. kiiranb.com is my journey and I felt it important to have her memory a part of it. someone who was just another human being to me, but is now someone I think of every night. her kindness remains with me forever and I hope I can maybe even be at least 10% as warm as her and I'll feel like I've accomplished something.
she passed away on May 28, 2020 because of a hard fought battle with COVID19.
with love,
kiiranb
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