For many years, my mother has longed for my grandmother to come stay with us. My mother used to meet her parents once a year during our school summer vacations and that too, for just a week. In many ways, a daughter becomes closer with her mother post marriage, as there are so many relatable situations over which they can bond. Imagine, meeting your mother once a year and then catching up on year-round events and activities, that too with a zillion odd interruption. Gradually, as we grew older, got married and busy with our lives, my mother desired to bring my grandmother to live with her, so that she could make up for lost time.
While my mother was making plans in her head, life already had one in execution. By the time my grandmother finally came to live with us, she was in the early stages of schizophrenia. Forget about any of us, she couldn’t even recognise her own daughter. My grandmother had her own share of troubles, and yet, was one of the most well-witted, jovial beings to be around. She is always either giggling or making others laugh. Seeing her like this affected us all but left my mother heartbroken. My mother had patiently waited for this day; and the day presented itself with a daughter in the form of her mother.
Life came a full circle for my mother; she turned into a parent to her mother. As per my mother, my grandmother does keep her company, but as a 10-year-old child. My grandmother finds it difficult to understand the simplest of things, repeats the same conversation several times, complains to my father/brother if my mother scolds her and vice-versa, makes up ailments like a child would and instantly forgets about it, when distracted. However, she enjoys going out for walks and to temples, has cravings for everything sweet, adorn colourful sarees and dress-up.
Even today, I see the jovial being in her, giggling and talking; but in made-up conversations in her own world of which we are not a part anymore.