I love my life, I do. Every single ounce of discomfort and every inch of happiness, it all makes up for a pretty good recipe of my life. Like I stressed plenty of times before, I did not have a difficult life. I had to make some tough decisions here and there (let’s say relatively tough decisions) but in the end it seems as if it all worked out in my favor.
As a child I viewed life as a book. Thinking that every story had a happy ending and that somehow the good will always win. I still hold on to that thought or should I say wish, although I am fully aware of that this is not even remotely true. Things happen, without a reason, to good people, that should never happen, to anyone. There is no rhyme or reason to some of the things that people have to encounter and it makes me angry and sad.
Part of the reason I am the way I am, is due to my late grandma, whom in these days I miss tremendously. She was great, the greatest and beyond everything my shelter. She was always there, when I needed help and when I was confused and when I needed a good laugh or a cup of coffee. She was the one I knew I could always count on. Don’t get me wrong, she hated almost every single one of my decisions I made concerning my travels. She hated the sheer thought of me not being close to her.
I always assured her, that I would be back. Though to some degree we both knew that that was not true. I wasn’t lying as much as trying to comfort her. Her last and biggest promise to me was to be with me at my wedding day. She promised that some odd several years ago and I was really hoping that she would, but sadly that was not the case.
I know that she would have wanted to be there for us, it was one of her last wishes, that she never expressed to me and if I would have known, this day would have probably happened sooner, but being my grandma, she knew it was best to give things time. I remember the last day I saw her in early November, a couple months before she parted, six years ago. She was weakened by then and I looked at her wrinkled face, the very face that I miss so much right now. And she cried into my shoulder, somehow in the past years she has gotten smaller, more fragile and she cried for what seemed an eternity. I just stood there and hugged her and told her, that everything would be alright. But we both knew, that was not true, we just tried to comfort each other.
A couple days later, on the way to the airport I called her and I heard her crackled voice, the very voice that I wish I could hear one more time, one last time. I do miss her a lot. Especially during Christmas, although she hated the cold, and she despised Christmas, but maybe that’s why I miss her so much, because it’s everything she disliked and yet, she would still always make sure that we all had a fun Christmas and she never failed and in the end, I think she kind of liked it too.
I know that my grandma made the incredibly hard decision of starting chemo, thereby losing her sense of taste and smell, losing her hair and having an incredibly decreased quality of life. But she soared through all the hard times. And she taught me one incredibly amazing life-lesson: to never give up, even if you don’t like it, as simple as that. If my grandma can do it, so can you!