A Little Unwell #DRG16

11 January 2016 — I have not slept all night. Been coughing, running a high fever, haven’t woken up my parents. (I’m 22, I am old enough to ‘not wake up the parents when I’m sick’).

The clock strikes 4 am. I know Dadi is awake now. I run down to her with my pillow and rajai. Immediately she fixes me up in her bed. Makes me a nice warm cup of tea. Gives me some medicines and sits next to the bed patting my forehead. (Yes I am still 22 but I’ll never be old enough to not run to Dadi like this. Ever.)

Thinking back on my 22 years of life, I cannot remember a single moment that I have not been grateful for Dadi. I’m one of those lucky children to have grown up with a grandparent and I am forever grateful for that. The relationship I share with my Dadi is beyond anything I can express in words.

Any important achievement, random gossip, she is the first one to know everything about everything in my life, (obviously mom’s part of all the story telling too!)

She is the first person I wish in the morning and the last at night. The first person I meet when I come back home and last person I see when I leave the house.

I am grateful for the relationship that my mother shares with my Dadi (that led to the closeness I share with Dadi). They are closer than mother and daughter. And I am glad that I have grown up living in a family where we have respected and loved our elders like this.

Dadi is and will always be our number one priority and I am ever grateful for having her in my life.

(For anyone wondering who ‘Dadi’ is, she is my dad’s mom, my paternal grandmother)