Wednesday, March 17, 2010You should be jealous of my grandmother. My A-Ma's that one person I love the most. And I'm lucky to have her live just next door.
My mom and I were going over my Math till late last night. Or maybe early this morning.
She stayed up late, real late. I knew she's worried 'bout me. My mom doesn't have the best temper, and I'm not exactly the smartest daughter she can have. She stayed up late so she can hear if my mom lost her temper. She knew my mom wouldn't lose her temper when we have A-Ma spying on us.
It was over midnight when I heard this thump. It sounded like a heavy box being thrown hard onto the floor.
And then, just like that, my imagination ran wild.
I was convinced my grandmother fell from the stairs. And I was convinced she fell real hard. And I was convinced I lost her.
Those few minutes, I thought of so much.
I cannot remember my last conversation with her.
I cannot remember when was the last time I hugged her and told her I loved her.
I'm thinking of what to say if the lady at the coffeeshop asked where's A-Ma.
I'm thinking of what to do with life without her.
I was scared, shaking. And I was pissed at me, making her stay up so late, worrying for me.
When we checked on her, it all turned out to be nothing at all, she's fine. A-Ma didn't fall, she didn't even know what made the sound.
It felt so good to know she's okay. I think it felt like I'm the happiest person on earth for that one moment.
A reminder for all those who have grandparents still alive and well, love them while you can, care while you can. Because, you never know how long they'll stay.