My mother was not allowed to speak with her father. So we never knew him, up till his death.
When I was six, my dad’s dad passed away. A year later, I remember him calling my brother and I to the bedroom and he told us his mother had followed him.
So all my life, I have only ever had one grandparent.
My grandmother is a special person. Not necessarily a special person in society, but she has been a special influence in my mother’s life. My mother has always been afraid of her mother. But she loved her. And she was fiercely loyal to her.
That was what my grandmother did. She bred fighter’s loyalty–
My mother usually would go to see her mother every year. last year, when I had been living with her mother, she did not. I got to know my grandmother more then, and I went to visit her every week or so and we’d watch TV or just chat. I had, however, inherited my fear of my grandmother from my mother. And every time I waited in her elevator lobby, I would stand there and literally debate with myself whether or not I wanted to go up and put on my granddaughter face.
My mom finally got a call from her publisher to go back to her home town and work on her book. She did that with some fear, not ready to see her family. But buckling down and being brave, she went. During this time, she mended her relationship with her brother, enforced a relationship with her sister and more importantly, got over her fear of her mother.
She called me to say she had spent time with her– had a good conversation with her. She was happy to talk to her mother.
A week after that… yesterday… Mom told me that Popo had passed away. I wonder if I will miss her…
…
…
I’m happy for my mom. I’m also happy that my brother got to see my grandma too. and after all the struggling, I’m kind of happy for my grandmother.
=}
That being said… let the real drama begin.
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