My grandmother lived the most amazing life, of any person I have ever known.
No one gave as much as her. Without asking, demanding for anything in return.
No one loved as much as her. So unconditionally, so sincerely, that genuine joy was planted in all those around her. She personified the spirit of loving. I have lost count of the number of people who gush over how she was like a mother to them. How they felt pampered by her mere presence. How lucky they were to have known her. She was amazing. beyond belief. I never saw her spread any negativity to anyone. She was headstrong in being the best Human Being there possibly could be. Every scolding, she took. Every time someone hurt her, she bore it. In a family so dystopically cracked, she weathered, and held us united. She forgave those whom others refused to forgive, (even when it was her who under went greater hurt than anyone else.) She was understanding. She was caring. She was determined to live independently and strong. She broke the rules and never looked back. She refused to let herself burden others. She was a fighter, who drew her strength from her love for everyone else. And we drew our strength from her. She would disregard caution and cook for the sake of her children and grandchildren. She threw tradition and custom aside for the sake of the happiness and joy of her loved ones. She knew when her actions would incite criticism. But it was her knowledge of how much, her actions would create a smile that drove her on. She gave her life for her family. And in doing so she fed us with that spark that made us special. She was our inspiration. She was the infallible. She was the most humble, un-hateful and peaceful being that I have ever know. She held my hand and walked with me. She massaged my legs when I was in pain. She remembered my favourite dishes for as long as I can remember. And her memory was equally good. Every simple story of the smallest favours we did for her, she kept to her heart. And she would remind us of how special we were, filling us with so much euphoria. Even though whatever it was that we did was probably nothing compared to the sacrifices she has made. She was feisty, yet she was mild and unassuming. She was the single cutest thing alive. Her smile was miraculous. Her laugh was heavenly. When she sang for us, that Christmas, I knew I blessed with an angel for a Grandmother. She was our guardian angel then, and she still is now. Every human being has their flaws. No one is perfect. But my attha is not just any human. She had turned her life into a symbol: of love, hope and sacrifice. She was the legend. She was our hero. She was our attha. And we will always love her. And never forget her. And there can be nothing more fulfilling in our short lives, than to try and emulate but a mere fraction of the goodwill that was my grandma. Our grandma. Atha.
No one gave as much as her. Without asking, demanding for anything in return.
No one loved as much as her. So unconditionally, so sincerely, that genuine joy was planted in all those around her. She personified the spirit of loving. I have lost count of the number of people who gush over how she was like a mother to them. How they felt pampered by her mere presence. How lucky they were to have known her. She was amazing. beyond belief. I never saw her spread any negativity to anyone. She was headstrong in being the best Human Being there possibly could be. Every scolding, she took. Every time someone hurt her, she bore it. In a family so dystopically cracked, she weathered, and held us united. She forgave those whom others refused to forgive, (even when it was her who under went greater hurt than anyone else.) She was understanding. She was caring. She was determined to live independently and strong. She broke the rules and never looked back. She refused to let herself burden others. She was a fighter, who drew her strength from her love for everyone else. And we drew our strength from her. She would disregard caution and cook for the sake of her children and grandchildren. She threw tradition and custom aside for the sake of the happiness and joy of her loved ones. She knew when her actions would incite criticism. But it was her knowledge of how much, her actions would create a smile that drove her on. She gave her life for her family. And in doing so she fed us with that spark that made us special. She was our inspiration. She was the infallible. She was the most humble, un-hateful and peaceful being that I have ever know. She held my hand and walked with me. She massaged my legs when I was in pain. She remembered my favourite dishes for as long as I can remember. And her memory was equally good. Every simple story of the smallest favours we did for her, she kept to her heart. And she would remind us of how special we were, filling us with so much euphoria. Even though whatever it was that we did was probably nothing compared to the sacrifices she has made. She was feisty, yet she was mild and unassuming. She was the single cutest thing alive. Her smile was miraculous. Her laugh was heavenly. When she sang for us, that Christmas, I knew I blessed with an angel for a Grandmother. She was our guardian angel then, and she still is now. Every human being has their flaws. No one is perfect. But my attha is not just any human. She had turned her life into a symbol: of love, hope and sacrifice. She was the legend. She was our hero. She was our attha. And we will always love her. And never forget her. And there can be nothing more fulfilling in our short lives, than to try and emulate but a mere fraction of the goodwill that was my grandma. Our grandma. Atha.
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