Monday, May 27, 2013

grandmothers and grandaughters

Two weeks ago, I saw a girl about my age, at the hospital with her grandmother. It reminded me off all the nights I spent with my grandmother in the hospital, especially in the last months of her life.  Also, specifically, it reminded me of the last day when she was alive, the morning on which she and I rode in the ambulance together and talked about remembering to lock the house. And of later that afternoon when I rode back in the ambulance with her dead body, to the cremation ground. Does this sound like nobody else in our house wanted to ride with us? Actually, I think they knew not to interrupt us.

Last week at the airport I saw a little girl with her grandmother. They were there with the rest of their family but they happened to be sitting next to each other. The little girl asked her grandmother something, which I couldn't hear and then, in response, the grandmother pulled out a sweet from her handbag and gave it to the little girl.

For some reason this reminded me of my grandmother. It's because she was always the cool one. She was cool because she didn't ever withold the cool stuff, the way my mother did. My mother worried that we never ate enough vitamins and proteins. My grandmother would always give my sister money to buy chips, chocolates and any other yum stuff. 

This evening, while I was walking in the park, my little five year old neighbour and her grandmother overtook me. They were holding hands and racing down the sloping walkway together. This is something my grandmother and I never tried. And I wonder what it might have felt like.

This morning I was in a plane and I fell asleep. It was one of those really nice days where my grandmother showed up in my dream. She was about to say something when the airhostess who had come to collect the trash woke me up. I wonder what my grandmother was about to say.

And I also wonder how it is possible to love someone so much. And how it is possible to miss someone so much, especially if they always come to meet you in your dreams, even if they are dead

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

the price of dreams

That awkward moment when you realise that dreams aren’t for everybody. That dreams cost money and not just hard work and practice. Because you can always work hard and you can always practice. But sometimes accessing your dream means paying for it and then you realise the universe has thrown you a series of uncontrollable events and you are just too poor to afford to dream.