Her Musings #ProjectNigeria

The Circle of Life

I've always seen dignity in old age.

Living with my grandmother has taught me a lot on the fragility of life and the resilience humans show when living it. I listened to her stories of her youth, heard her words of encouragement and resolved to live life to the fullest, as the opportunities I have now were only a fantasy to her at my age.

We watched her grow older and more delicate, but the light in her eyes never faded. Over time, we, the ones she had cared for, became the carers. We would wake up every morning to check up on her in her room, and questions like, "How is Mama? Has she had breakfast? What about her drugs? Have you spent time with Mama today?" would be asked amongst ourselves. Some mornings she would be up in her chair, praying her rosary in a low voice. I'd lie on the bed and listen, and I could hear my name and those of my family members in her prayers.

On busy days, when work was plenty at home you could find a sibling or two hiding in Mama's room. On lazy days, we would be there too, enjoying her company. She loved our company. She loved seeing us all on her bed, squeezing ourselves into the confined space while she sat on her favourite chair, sewing or singing.

It hurt to see her struggle to recall some memories. It hurt to see things slip out of her hand, like a tablet or a pill. One time, she didn't even notice it. I had to pick up the pill. It hurt to see her walk slowly, a hand on her hip. It hurt to hear her complaints of joint pain. It hurt me that I could do nothing to stop it at all, because we are all moving towards certain decline whether we like it or not.

That's the circle of life.

Through it all, my grandmother was resilient and faced each day happily. That was, until her daughter, my beloved aunt, died. No one deserves to bury their children. It shattered her and accelerated her decline. I wasn't around, but the last time I heard from her, she sounded broken. Mama died two months later, and I was thousands of miles away from her side to say my final goodbyes.

I will always think I'm blessed to have had her, though. She was my first teacher in so many things. Each time I see an elderly person, I smile. These people need company; let us all remember that we will grow old and need company. I pray we won't have to beg for it.