Puja Rijal Poudel
Needless to say, we all grieve over the loss of our near and dear ones. What matters is the degree to which grieving impacts us. Try as I may, I cannot verbalize my feeling on losing my grandpa last year because of two obvious reasons. First, I was brought up at my maternal home with grandpa ever since I was an infant until I got married six months ago in my mid-twenties. Second, I was blindsided by this tragedy when everything else was going perfect. Had it been the case of my grandpa being decrepit and bed-ridden with some illness I would not have had a hard time coming to terms with the loss.
My grandpa left an irreparable void in my life for he was the one who saw me right through thick and thin. He was the one who stood by me to offer me words of comfort and motivation when I needed them the most. He was the only one who did not adopt a judgmental approach in dealing with me when the rest of the world around me was jeering at me for a mistake I made out of sheer stupidity and innocence once in my lifetime. In the stillness of the moments, my eyes well up with tears when I drift my mind to his unwavering support for my cause and belief, not to mention the bounteous love he perpetually blessed me with.
The death of my father did not befall on me as my grandpa’s death has. I barely remember any (fond) memories with my father as he kicked the bucket when I was a fourth grader. He was nothing more than an erudite personality and a big failure in his personal life which was exacerbated by his decadent living. Little wonder, he failed me as a (good) father. One might wonder why my maternal grandpa had to take upon the task of fostering me. The reason squarely lies in being born from a mother who was nothing more than a means of fetus carrier and a baby dispenser-one of the biological features of a living being. Like my father, she failed me as a good mother. No wonder, she has not been doing justice to her life either. Her life sans bare minimum socialization is dominated by decidedly sedentary living and ennui, fully living off what my father left behind. That speaks volumes about her mindset behind dumping me in my maternal uncle’s home as she gave birth to her next baby girl against her hankering for a son. Was it my fault of being born from her as a girl? She makes it look like this. Now anyone could surmise the background on which I call my grandpa my hero. The definition of “hero” holds true in him for me.
Amid all the haters and cynics in my father’s home, I shudder at the thought of what my life would become if my grandpa had not been there for me. They were not even ready to believe that I would be able to make it to the SLC exam whereas I have successfully completed my college degree and now am braced for masters. With the new hero now in my life-my husband-my gut feeling says that I will complete the master’s degree as well. At least, I would amount to something in life, unlike what my detractors believe in.
Does being the biological parents alone make us deserve gratitude from our children even when we fail to fulfill the responsibilities of the parents during the formative years of their childhood? Of course not! What counts the most is the proper bringing up of our child(ren) with the inculcation of right ethos. Full marks to my grandpa for being a good foster parent to me!
There are many people who did not get proper love and care from their parent(s) when they needed them the most. Some may have borne the brunt of the perpetual bickering of their parents because of their dysfunctional marriage and some may have gone through untold hardship during and after their parents’ divorce ordeal. Every child deserves the best from their parents no matter what situation is. Father’s Day and Mother’s Day come every year and people put their parents on pedestals. Obviously, I celebrated those days with my grandparents. I honestly do not want to fake an emotion and express my profound sentiments over my mom on Mother’s Day because we honestly do not happen to share any fond memories as mom and daughter.
Now my father-in-law and mother-in-law have begun to take up a new position in my heart as my parents. Those who have (long-standing) grudges against their children should offer them a hug and forgive and forget because life is too short to miss out actualizing their love and noble fantasies with their children. Time is the best healer of our sorrows and egos. Who knows, the one who we happen to hate in the strongest possible terms today might one day be the one who we end up doting upon. So, it is always wise to factor in that possibility. Maybe this article will help my mom realize the error of her ways and come to social life and hug me. This would have been the fitting tribute not only to my grandpa but also to her father.
(Poudel is an undergraduate in Management and loves to maintain a diary.)