Plushness

I wrote and rewrote this post many times, I even debated whether I would be able to write a just entry to the Greatest Woman in the World. Of course nothing would do her justice for she is larger than my humble vocabulary, larger than than the English vocabulary. But I will try, because it is from this proud woman that I have become.

My first memory of her is in her house in Nuzha, she would lay down in the afternoon listening to the radio and telling me stories of Suroor, Swairah, Zumbuborabab (Kuwaiti fairy tales). I would only listen to these stories from Grandma, because she told them best, it was as if she was there-- and she never tired to tell them for the whole summer that I would spend with her. God rest her beautiful soul.

My last living memory of her is last Tuesday, the night before I went to my meeting in London. Her face was pale, but looking better than the previous day. She was in hospital only to be fed because she refused to eat. She asked me to take her out of the hospital, but she settled for a walk around her floor. We sat by the delivery room observing, somewhat amused, the husbands and families of the women in labour. She loved life, she loved all the good things in life, and was not accepting that she can no longer be the woman who does it all. The woman who would supervise her house as she did, the woman who would do her own grocery shopping, who would visit at least one of her children and one of her sisters everyday. The woman who was looked up to for courage and strength, the woman who loved her chalet trips, who loved her Wednesday outings with her younger grandchildren to restaurants and malls.

I came back from the airport, not believing what I had heard. I knew she had given up, she was not interested in life with a pipe in her nose and feeding through her veins, but we thought she may stay for a few years longer, that she is strong enough to recover from her illness. But then I remembered my grandfather, her husband. He gave up once they told him he must have a nurse to accompany him and a driver to drive him to his local coffee shop. Yes, they would be together now after leaving us with a lot-- a lot to live up to.