I was the only grandchild my grandfather (my mom's dad) got to meet. My grandpa was diagnosed with stage four cancer in 1998 and told he had twenty days to live; however, after a successful opperation, he lived on until November 15th, 2005, 10 months after I was born. Today, every year on November 15th we celebrate his birthday in the sky. We buy cake, sing, and celebrate his life, and yet I feel as though I know very little about him.
My parents got married in 2003 and had me two years later in 2005. Everybody was so excited for me to be born, especially on my mom's side of the family where I was the first grandchild. My grandmother flew all the way from Abu Dabi to the United States just to witness my birth, my mother describes the experience as surreal. A few months after I was born on September 11th, 2005, my mother to me to Abu Dabi where her family resided at the time to give them all a chance to meet her firstborn… their first grandchild. In Abu Dabi, I met the rest of the family, my grandpa, aunts, uncle, and my grandmother's sister who’s basically my third grandmother.
I spent a month in my grandfather's embrace before he sustained a life-threatening fall on October 15th and was hospitalized. My mother and I stayed in Abu Dabi until November 7th, 2005, that was the last time either of us saw him. On November 15th, 2005 my grandpa died.
I wish I could remember anything from that one good month my mother and I spent with my grandpa before his fall. My mother is very attached to her family and yet past the pictures and a few fun stories I know nothing about the man who raised her and loved me so dearly. Honestly, it feels unfair because I know that he loved me so very much and I don’t know anything about him. How am I supposed to love someone I don’t even know? I wish he’d written, maybe then I could have something more other than just his image, because honestly, I remember nothing.
P.S Is anybody having to submit their writing twice before it shows up on the blog?
— March
My parents got married in 2003 and had me two years later in 2005. Everybody was so excited for me to be born, especially on my mom's side of the family where I was the first grandchild. My grandmother flew all the way from Abu Dabi to the United States just to witness my birth, my mother describes the experience as surreal. A few months after I was born on September 11th, 2005, my mother to me to Abu Dabi where her family resided at the time to give them all a chance to meet her firstborn… their first grandchild. In Abu Dabi, I met the rest of the family, my grandpa, aunts, uncle, and my grandmother's sister who’s basically my third grandmother.
I spent a month in my grandfather's embrace before he sustained a life-threatening fall on October 15th and was hospitalized. My mother and I stayed in Abu Dabi until November 7th, 2005, that was the last time either of us saw him. On November 15th, 2005 my grandpa died.
I wish I could remember anything from that one good month my mother and I spent with my grandpa before his fall. My mother is very attached to her family and yet past the pictures and a few fun stories I know nothing about the man who raised her and loved me so dearly. Honestly, it feels unfair because I know that he loved me so very much and I don’t know anything about him. How am I supposed to love someone I don’t even know? I wish he’d written, maybe then I could have something more other than just his image, because honestly, I remember nothing.
P.S Is anybody having to submit their writing twice before it shows up on the blog?
— March
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