It's my grandmother's birthday today - I wish we were closer. I wish I could give her an enormous hug and kiss and say 'happy birthday' to her, rather than over the phone. But I can't. And I know she will say that's okay and that I should worry about me and finishing my work - and that she doesn't like birthdays anyways cause they just remind her how old she is.
A few things I should point out:
- my grandmother is beautiful
- my grandmother's life-story is amazing
- my grandmother is the wisest, most generous, kindest and most courageous woman I know
It's possible that everyone thinks exactly the same thing about their grandmothers. I don't know them - but it's the truth about mine. I suppose it's a fairly cliched part of growing up that people who existed only as 'grandmother' suddenly and sometimes alarmingly become whole individuals with their own lives - most of which had nothing to do with me. I am constantly humbled by my grandmother's love - which is nearly a palpable thing: as secure as her lap and as encompassing as her arms. I don't know how I earned it but it always comforts me when I doubt myself and what I'm doing 5,000kms away from her.
Happy birthday Grandma!
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