My Grandmother

My GrandMa suffered a paralytic stroke week before. She was home alone. Her frantic phone call to my Uncle was "Come home soon, I can't understand but something's happening to me...". My Uncle was at the hospital. My Aunt's family was there. The day before, her family saw a mild emergency of sorts too.

My Uncle rushed back home. I don't quite know what state he found my GrandMa in, but by then her entire left side had experienced a heavy attack and had lost a great deal of sensory and motor ability. There aren't too many people at my uncle's place, so everyone was pitching in to take care of her, walking her to the bathroom etc. They've finally sought domestic help too, now that my GrandMa can't insist against it.

After a week, my GrandMa has shown signs of partial recovery. She can use her palm, so she leans on a chair to walk, wears a gown by herself etc. Now my Uncle and family are teaching her the basics again, after more than 80 years, when her parents must have held her hands while she took her first steps. And so life goes round full circle. Erik Erikson's eighth stage of ego integrity.

While I'm thinking of the restaurants, malls, theaters and clubs I should check out, there are buildings in between - the police stations, the judicial courts and the hospitals. As much as I'm scared of these places, something tells me, the visits are inevitable. My GrandMa is doing ok now. At least, that's what it seems from a distance. She's always played her pain down, she's too strong, tolerant and courageous to discuss her own miseries. I can't even guess what's passing her mind as she observes her own body lose function.