granny’s funeral was yesterday. it was beautiful and dignified. simple and very sweet. the sun shone brightly as we stood at the grave site singing prayers and holding each other tightly.
this experience has brought up my feelings of sorrow for my dad. he wasn’t able to see his mother since we left iran in 1979. 30 years of not getting to look into your own parent’s eyes and be in their company is an irreconcilable loss. when my dad found out his mother had died last year he didn’t tell anyone. not even my mum. he carried that news in this bizarre solitary fashion until he was ready to ‘inform’ us all. i got the news over the phone – a calmly delivered fact. i had never had a single conversation with that grandmother and now she was gone.
these past few days have been strung together with acute moments of sweetness and sadness. my heart ached as a cousin held a silk scarf next to her face and quietly said ‘i can smell granny’, and i’m constantly reminded of granny whenever one of her five children says something dry and satirical that makes the rest of us laugh.
as soon as we walked into the house we clambered on top of the bed with devon’s mum, nikki. we laid with our arms and legs tangled in a pile as she shook with tears. our hearts felt full to capacity engulfed by her sadness. to lose your mother is still unfathomable to me. i think of that relationship as eternal, constant, forgiving, unconditionally loving. our first carers. the one to turn to when all else crumbles. the one who really ‘knows’ you.
it’s somewhat difficult/different as the family member via marriage. i didn’t grow up with these cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. i had my own very new, small and humble relationship with granny. and sometimes i feel like i have no right to be sad or to miss her, because my connection to her was so much less signifcant than that of her own family.
but i did love her. and i had a huge amount of respect for her and what she single-handedly had achieved. as i look around the room at small cousins engrossed in the latest gadget, and older cousins tending to their flock, and her children who are all grief-stricken but still able to find joy and happiness in this testing time, i’m so grateful for this opinionated, loud, beautiful family that all sprang from her.