Not-an-ode to you…

…my dear grandma

For the first time, in what I think is more than two years, I visited my grandma. I have many reasons for why I haven't visited her, but none of those reasons, I think, would hold well with others. I will admit that they were purely selfish and purely out of guilt.

Before going any further, I should add that she, my grandma, is not alive. She currently resides, and will reside through space and time, in a plot in a cemetery under the shade of a tree.

I know fully well why I have not visited her for more than two years, I think. It's mixed with gut-wretching guilt and tear-filled thoughts about the family she wishes were together. Her family, her sons and daughters, are not on the best of terms, and me, well, I'm currently in the middle of the drama.

I remember that last night I had with her, the last interaction she had with anyone from her family, with great vividness. The stench of sterilisation in that cream coloured room was suffocating. Yet I was still there, because someone should have been. And I wanted some alone time with the first grandparent I felt I had a connection to. I was sitting there by her bedside, as she was in a coma, talking to her about the television shows she used to watch  and what was happening. I told her about what she would like about the new characters. I told her: "But don't worry, you'll be able to watch it when you wake up. Right? Promise that you'll wake up?"

It was the last thing I said to her before departing the hospital way too late in the night; besides "I love you". 

Two hours later, she passed away.

And it has only come to my recent attention that I might have been the last person she heard, I gave her those last words, and she chose not to wake up like I asked. I felt downright guilty. I know it wasn't my fault, I know that it's not, but I can't help these thoughts. So two weeks ago, I decided that I should visit her. Alone.

Only today did I manage to visit. I bought her white lilies and placed them on her grave. I stood there saying sorry for all the things I should have said and done to heal the bridge between her family. I said sorry for not trying harder when trying to convince her to stay awake. I said sorry and I asked why. 

I feel different, for sure. 

This a not-an ode to you, dear grandma, to say I'm sorry and that I will always, always, love you.

It seems to revolve around...

...trust

This week, it's trust. So many things about trust.

One main thing about me:I trust very little people and those I do 'trust', I trust very little.

Why, you - whoever 'you' are - ask? Well I guess you can say that I was raised not trusting anyone.

Most kids are taught from an early age to trust people. I was taught that I couldn't trust a lot of people. A hard hit of reality, I know. So as I grew up, I began trusting less and less. On top of being told to trust very little people, I experienced things that resulted me in realising that trusting people means hurting less.

With me, it always ends up with hurting a little less than I do in that moment. All of my decisions revolves around that concept. Therefore to me, at an early age, I realised that less trust equals less hurt. This then resulted in my 'independence' I mentioned before and why that one boy's statement stuck with me - which happened five or so years ago. Clichéd, I know.

Fast forward to now, and here I am, this week, where my trust has been once again tested.

Case number one: I went out to lunch with a friend.


Case number two: I'm going to go out for dinner with friends.


In case number one, I explicitly said, twice, "I don't trust anyone." And for each of those times, it seemed like she didn't believe me. Maybe that's my non-trust issues for not believing her.


In case number two, I told my parents that I was going out. It ended up being a lecture on not trusting people you don't know because they will hurt you. They always use examples of other people's experiences. 

Sure, I don't like the fact that people say that one should make mistakes to learn of and experience the world, but I also don't like when people won't LET you make mistakes for you to learn from. I know, what are you left with? Well, honestly, I don't know...nothing, I'm assuming.


I do hope, though, that I could be more trustful with people. It's hard not having trust in anyone. It's hard living like that, and I wouldn't want to wish that on the smallest insect or my worst enemy. I don't want to walk on the street and look over my shoulder every ten seconds to check if someone is following me. I don't want that. Maybe no so much as trust, and more of paranoia.

I don't know if I can change (though it's never too late for change), but trust if you can. And trust wholeheartedly. That's really all I can ask of you. You'll be better off with it.