It’s dark outside. The sun is probably setting, or already set.
Hi, everyone! Today is Spring Equinox, also called Ostara as a pagan holiday, and today the length of the day and night is perfectly balanced – right down in the middle.
So we are finally in the middle of the Spring, and as if to demonstrate the fact, today the sun shone brightly and cheerfully. But we are also just leaving behind the dark half of the year, and as if to emphasize that point, it has gotten really chilly outside (heater on, pullover over t-shirt and everything).
I always feel more alert during the Spring months than any other months of the year. My favorite season probably remains autumn but I do enjoy the sunny days of spring and summer.
Today I learned that my paternal grandmother might have cancer.
She – I do not particularly wish to speak ill of the ill (please excuse the pun) but I do want to be honest – is not a beloved figure in my household; She rather is perceived as a petty and moody person who has a very sharp tongue that she uses (especially!) against her family. I say “perceived” because you never know what’s going on inside a person’s mind, and I haven’t seen her in four years. But she probably hasn’t changed much.
My paternal grandmother used to be a constant presence in my life until the move to Germany, but I have never felt any love from her. Oh, she was fond of me and my sister, I assume, in her own way. She tolerated us, she gave us the plainest dishes (rice and kimchi), she got mad at us for no reasons until we ran away crying (we were still in primary school, just to give an age context), she never remembers any of our birthdays and gets angry while demanding we memorize her age. We never really had any meaningful conversations. She never comforted us when we were sad. She was – is? – proud of us in her own way. The thing is, my grandmother was born in a hard time, and even though she was good at school, she never received secondary and tertiary education because her father thought as a girl she doesn’t need any.
There are generation gaps between us, and a mutual disinterest, but not as far as in each other’s health. I am worried about my grandmother, less because she might die (she is an old lady, after all, almost reaching 90s), but more because I’m afraid her last days won’t be spent in comfort. How can you be surrounded by your loved ones if no one really loves you? It sounds cruel, but that’s the heart-breaking truth (an expression which makes me sound like a hypocrite, a fact of which I am well aware). She’s old and sick, but no one wants to comfort her. Not because we – the whole family with aunts and uncles and cousins – are afraid of her reaction or anything, but because we are not interested.
Some of my family members will tell me not to feel bad, because there was no bond between my grandmother and me. My grandmother sometimes said hateful things, and expected to be treated well even though her treatment of others was rather bad.
I still feel like a bad person and a bad granddaughter for not loving my Grandmother.
Grandma, I’m sorry. Maybe you never meant to be a good person, but I am still sorry that you have to die alone. But will you stay alive till summer so I can go to Korea and hold your hand for the last time? You will probably abuse me verbally, or just ignore me after the excitement of seeing a granddaughter after four years of absence wears off (which means after couple of hours). I will probably want to escape your room and feel suffocated by your presence.
But please, Grandmother, let me do my last duty to you.