My mother called this morning, and this started the happy but anxious feeling that I get in my tummy whenever I get a call from my family. I heard about the passing of my father this way, and I’ve developed quite a stay-away feeling for the phone. I don’t like to check messages, and I tend to not like to make calls with it. Its gotten so bad that even when I receive messages for work, I usually don’t listen to those either!

Well as my instincts told me, this wasn’t so good news. My 96 year-old grandmother is not feeling well. Apparently, she hasn’t been feeling well and my Mum is just informing me about it. I got a flashback to my father in hospital, when my Mum called me to let me know that he was doing even worse. Me, on my way to come over to see him the next day, that wasn’t something that I wanted to hear. At the time, after we finished talking, she asked me if I wanted to talk to him. I understood the sub-text. This may be the last opportunity that I get to talk to him. I was petrified. My father made a good attempt to talk to me, and I tried, in my very best ga, to say “I’m on my way, Dad…I’ll be seeing you soon. I’m bringing you lots of things that will help you. Things will get better.” And his standard response of course was…”Its already better” Little did I know at the time that was going to be the last time I spoke to him, since he passed before I got I arrived from my trans-atlantic trip 3 days later.

So when my Mum asked if I wanted to talk to my grandmother today, my heart skipped a beat, as I dutifully spoke some panic-inspired ga to try my best to have a conversation with my grandmother. Just to set the stage, my grandmother is hard of hearing. But I have one of those phones that you can increase the mic volume, so my standard practice when talking to her is to increase the volume, and start shouting at the phone. But we usually have quite a light, joking banter about the goings on of the day. Today though, it was a different story. The first thing that came to mind was this exchange:

Me: “Hello Maanaa, I heard you were sick”
Maanaa: “Yes, I’m not feeling well”
Me: “Why”
Maanaa: “Talk to your Mum, she’ll fill you in”

Then she hands the phone over to my Mum. Well of course, that would probably be my reaction too, if some fool got on the phone, after being told I’m not well, to ask me why I’m not well. Hello?!? I felt terrible when I got the news that she wasn’t feeling well, and I felt even worse then. I realized that in my attempt to stay away from the bad news, I’d made the situation even worse. You see I’ve always thought that my connection with my grandmother was a special one. I was named after her (both my grandmothers have the same name), and she always refers to me as “Namesake” and I’m always gleaming when she does that. I love that. I love snuggling up to her, and touching her face and hands. I love joking with her, and hearing her stories of old. Most of her siblings and family have died-off, and she often talks about how she’s the only one left. She was truly hurt by my fathers passing – in her mind, it didn’t make sense that he left before she did. And she’d always tell me about the times they spent together.

So yes, I’m a bit shaken up, and would like to summon all the earths positive energy to get my Maanaa better again.So that I will once again banter with her about how “chumo e hi” (loosely translated as the deed is good) or our standard “eez alright”.

Here she is, being the comedian she likes to be...
Part1: Mum and Maanaa interview, with song and dance:


Part2:


Part3: