One of the disadvantages of living abroad is that you are far away when your grandparents get sick. When my grandfather died, I was living in Nepal. My mum called me just as I was signing the papers to rent a Motorcycle for the first time in my life. I got angry I wasn’t there and I screamed “FEEEEEETTTAAAA” out loud as I’m known to do when things don’t go my way.
The guy renting the bike to me was a bit nervous after my outcry, but I already had the key in my hand. His fears were confirmed when he realized I had no idea how to ride a motorcycle and crashed it into three different people before I had even reached the road.Last week my dad called and told me my grandmother was sick. Really sick. In fact she was dying. Laila was my favorite. Not only as a grandmother, but as a person in general. She was so nice to everyone, she made saints look like sinners, and meatballs I would die for. She was the best nurse of all time, and last time I visited her she removed some stiches I had on my leg – without even needing to wear glasses. Needless to say, I had to see her before she passed away.
Once Jørgen came back to Beirut with my credit card, I just had to wait for the General Security to open its doors so they could stamp me out and be on my way the same day. My flight to Frankfurt was delayed and I was getting scared she would have passed away before I arrived.
My dad told me the Cancer had hit her everywhere and she was getting worse by the second. I finally reached Oslo and took a taxi to the hospital. My dad and all my uncles and aunts stood watching over grandma, who was heavily drugged up on morphine to take the pain away.
That whole night we cried at the hospital and talked about her. The next day she opened her eyes. She saw me. Even through the morphine and the pain she recognized me and tried to lift her arms to give me a hug — a gesture she used a lot of energy on. She was too tired and the pain was too intense for her to complete it, so I gave her one instead, stroked my hand through her hair, and kissed her cheek.
Laila had never smoked or even drank. When she took my stitches out in Oslo she made me coffee but I had to drink it black because she didn’t even eat sugar. She was the symbol of healthy living. Last time I met her she told me she always worried about me and prayed for me every day. Which probably explains why I have had such a great life.
After she opened her eyes and we hugged, it was only minutes before she stopped breathing. She had been waiting for me. She even waited to see me before she died. That’s what a superstar my Grandma was!
Goodbye Grandma Superstar! You were the best!
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In th... [more]
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