Dear Grandma,
Known to the general public as Mrs Patience Philomena Naa Ayeley Lartey, you were my maternal grandmother. You were more than just that, though. You were the second best friend I made after your husband, my grandfather; my mother and chief babysitter who took care of me when my parents were at work for over 19 years; and my co-telenovela watcher.
My after-school childhood was mainly me running into your room after getting home so we could watch those Mexican telenovelas on your TV (to my mother’s disdain 😆). Even when I had grown a little older and moved on to Indian telenovelas, I enjoyed discussing the stressful characters and their “tensious” relationships with you. You have always had controversial opinions, and I enjoyed our little banters here and there.
We had our moments of disagreements, yes. And I won’t lie; the older I grew, the more I detached from you. But I always felt that you wouldn’t die anytime soon and would be there to scold at least one of your great-grandchildren. When you fell ill last year, I thought it would just be one of those things you would bounce back from.
I didn’t cry when I first heard the news that you had passed on. I remember trying to force out a few tears when others encouraged me to mourn, but aside from feeling the pricks of salt behind my eyes, I couldn’t shed a single one. Was it because I didn’t miss you? No, but I guess I knew that you had been in a lot of pain and are, God-willing, smiling pain-free in Heaven now.
It wasn’t until your funeral service, when one lady kept raising hymns that I actually broke down. If there’s one thing anyone knew about you, it’s that you loved singing hymns. Especially when you had your favourite drink in a cup 😅. The hymn book Naa and I took to SHS was gifted by you, and it is certainly one of the memories I treasure from my time in a Methodist school.
Speaking of gifts, I recall the numerous occasions you would call me to your room so you can hand down some cloths, dresses, outfits, etc etc. If only you had bequeathed a few of your shades and wigs, we could have dressed as twins 😂.
I miss you, Grandma, even though I didn’t say it much when you were around. I no longer have you there to comment on my weight gain and/or loss when I come home from school. I no longer have you calling me to carry your numerous bags to and from the taxi. I no longer have to prepare dinner for you by 7pm when the telenovela on TV3 ends.
I learned how to scratch airtime recharge cards at an early age because of you. Oh, Grandma and phones 😅. I can’t count the number of times I had to sit by you and either delete SMSes or go through your contact list to help you delete numbers you didn’t need or want anymore.
At the time, all these felt stressful and annoying. Now I kind of wish I had one more chance to do them with a smile on my face.
Three months, two weeks and five days after receiving the call, I am still a little emotional. I wish I could have been there to visit you in the hospital, but I also know that I would have definitely broken down if I had seen you then. So I am content knowing that I last saw you surrounded by family and loved ones at your 82nd birthday party. You were in pain, but you sat down and tried to have a good time.
I love you so much, Grandma, and I look forward to seeing you singing with the angels in Heaven.
Love,
Bkor 💙
Gems from a Sapphire 