Once upon a time, when my family went out to dinner, my dad asked the waiter, "Can we have a high-chair please?" My grandma picked me up under my armpits and swiveled me into the seat.
Tonight, we went out to dinner and I said to the waiter, "Can you remove the seat on the edge please?" I wrapped my hands around the two handles of my grandma's wheelchair and rolled her into the vacant space.
The Collins Dictionary defines the circle of life as "nature's way of taking and giving back. It represents the infinite nature of energy."
The circle of life. What a peculiar concept - a concept that was foreign to me not too long ago.
Throughout the past couple of months, old age, coupled with a bad fall, has altered my grandma's life and mine. I feel frustrated that a bad thing happened to someone so undeserving. I feel helpless when I see her struggle but can't ease the pain. I feel disheartened that I have to be hours away at college, where I can't do anything but pray she feels my love.
Despite all of the solemn emotions I have been battling, I am showered with an odd sense of comfort believing perhaps this is the circle of life. I was lucky enough to grow up living with my grandmother. She was there for me through it all and now is my chance to be here for her.
As I help lift her up in bed, I think of how I used to tumble back and forth in her bed, attempting to sit on my own.
When I gently shift her weight towards her walker, I reminisce on how wrapped around her waist was my favorite place to be.
I step away once she grips her walker, encouraging her to slowly regain independence. I hear the walker thump on the ground, her feet shift. The walker thumps on the ground. Her feet shift. The tempo of her steps carry a slow, off-beat, unexplainably exciting rhythm. Is this what it felt like when she heard me walk for the first time? A rhythm that doesn't quite ring to the tune of perfection, but promises progress.
I pour Honey Nut Cheerios into a bowl and make sure to fill it with almond milk, but only up to the half-way point. I fill a glass of warm water and grab her pill bottles. As I bring them to her, I remember how she cooked me eggs before I got downstairs every morning, asked me what I wanted to drink as the pan sizzled, and fed me vitamins before I headed off to school.
I help her button her favorite purple shirt after her shower and comb her hair just how she likes it. Anybody who knows my grandma knows that despite having to spend the majority of the day resting in bed, this beauty queen still wants to look flawless.
And I admire her for that. Despite the challenges she bears, my grandma lives with an unwavering love for everyone and everything around her. She prays without question, gives without return, and finds reason to express gratitude in even the subtlest of moments. She encourages me to be the best version of myself, for her, because she has never been anything less for my family. She is our rock and I hope she knows how thankful we are to be a part of her circle of life.
