Oh Nikita....Thank you for sharing him with us. I read this post at least 3 times, and vivid images of a hand with Mahmoud Darwish's poetry flashed in front of me, an image of a young Nikita gently taking it and reading it under a lantern... or the lamp of anticipatory joy from her own heart inundated my imagination. I wonder what happens to the human physiology as memories fade, and our souls can't express through this palpable edifice composed of flesh and blood and anomalous molecules and cells that we reside in..... My axons and dendrons sent so many impulses up and down my breath, and I could feel tears trickling down my face.
I often think of my relationship with "home", with the land where my ancestors planted their roots. I was an eldest child. The parents that I owe my existence to resented me and tried to take my breath away and send me back to the expansive space composed of hydrogen and carbon and elements that the stars are made of. But destiny had other plans. My maternal grandmother found me delirious, with a fever, sexually abused and shaking when I was 5 years old. I had taken solace behind a tiny hut that smelled of cardamom. Even if my mother didn't want me, her dupatta smelled of "elaichi".... How I craved my mother's touch. But my nani scooped me up and made me Bajri ki roti. Her favourite raag was Tilakkamod, and she sang me the most beautiful tunes. She fed me.. And I slept in her lap for days. Her name was Tara.... meaning stars!
That deep care that she gave me for those 4 days lit up a lamp in my heart. That no matter where I go, her love would save me and soothe me. And even if she wasn't ever with me in the flesh, her healing love stays with me, tucked in a sanctimonious alcove in the shrines of my soul and being. In 2011, I found out she was visiting a relative in the United States. I was in a homeless shelter, but I took 5 buses and 4 days and I found her. She had Alzheimers, and she couldn't remember me. I started singing raag Tilakkamod and I saw her eyes light up. I slept in her lap for days and days. We ate Bajri Ki Roti. I bathed her. Brushed her hair and showed her the stars and told her it was her shine that kept the sky ablaze.
2 months later she left this planet. And I still cry...But I am so grateful I got a few days with my shiny star. My Tara Nani.
I'm sending you so so much love Nikita. Hugging your heart from afar...Thank you for taking me to a space that means so much to me, my Nani's memory. I hope you get the rest and rejuvenation. I hope healing embraces you, I hope your heart feels held and loved.
dementia is so incredible hard to witness. just lost my grandfather to alzheimer’s last year and it’s awful to see the minds of people deteriorate beyond their control. sending love 🧡
I am so deeply sorry for your loss. I keep thinking how hard and terrifying it must be for the person going through it while we can do so little to help them. 💔
Oh sweet one. Thank you for sharing your tender heart with us. And thank you for allowing us, inviting us, to get to know your beautiful grandfather. I ache for your ache. During times, when I was awaiting the end of a beloved’s life, a dear friend said these words - “at the end of each day, thank them for another day”. And while your grandfather may be losing his ability to know you in the ways our minds understand, I know that he is not forgetting you. You are him; he is you. And the words you share you share because of the LOVE he has for you. I appreciate so much you sharing your words at such a painful and sorrowful time. Holding your heart from here dear one. XOXO
Thank you so much for this beautiful and generous comment. It is full of wisdom and kindness and I needed it more than I can say today. Thank you again ❤️
Oh, Nikita, what a beautiful tribute to your Grandfather and what a gift you are to him as he navigates something so scary. May he find deep comfort in all the memories and stories you share with him.
Lost my Mum to dementia 5 years ago so I deeply relate to what you've shared here.
Sending much love to you, your Grandfather and your whole family ❤️
I didn’t get to spend long enough this time around with my grandparents, and I hope I get another chance to spend longer with them next time. How much we hold onto love and hope in the end, our only comforts in the chaos of illness and the world.
It is enough, what you give back to him is enough. I had a similar relationship with my gran, she was my creative and spiritual guide, and she also got dementia. Your story here echoes my own feelings at the time - she had held me, cared for me, given me stories, and ideas, and encouragement and love, and I wanted to give all that back to her. It was hard, she became the child, I was the adult. But what a privilege to walk someone home. They raise us, and we walk them home... And yes they live within us and through us... 🤍🤍🤍
Nikita, thank you for sharing this beautiful piece of love for your grandfather with us. I am sending deep love and warmth to you. May grief meet you with grace. <3
I was reminded by your mention of telling your grandfather the stories he used to tell you that I did the same for my grandmother when she was dying, nearly a decade ago now. I went to her home and collected a stack of children's books she used to read to me. I brought them to the hospital bedside. It was my turn to read to her. How humbling, this role reversal. It felt like rehearsing for a world without her in it, to read aloud the words she first read to me. Thank you for reminding me of this sweet moment.
I love you, and this is beyond beautiful. You’ve captured an element of grief that is so hard to describe - living grief, and pieces of them disappearing so slowly, it seems impossible to hold it all.
I remember well the years I was in grief while my mother lived with dementia and and a oxygen tank. I came to understand her during those years when unlike your magnificent relationship with your grandfather mine with my mother was complicated. I had to find forgiveness, understanding, empathy for her alcoholism, her trauma which I could never find the truth of, the loss of her to me. It still feels odd to have been grieving for her even when she was still alive. Your touch on that here is deeply felt and I send you time, space and breath.
A beautiful tribute that feels like it was placed in my lap for just this moment. I lost my grandmother to dementia last month. I connect so deeply to your description of your grandfather as your storytellers voice; so much of how I see myself is through the ways she shaped me. And I’m not so far on the other side that I’ve forgotten the exact anticipatory grief you describe. Dementia is a death by a thousand cuts and it’s a tremendous hardship. Sending your family abundant love, and especially your grandfather. May his legacy be a blessing to you and your loved ones forever.
I also didn’t realize until this exact moment that I, too, am the oldest daughter of an oldest daughter. Caregiving embedded and encoded deeply in my body. Chewing on that.
Reading this really resonated with how I am feeling at present. I too am the eldest daughter of an eldest daughter. My mum has been unwell for a while now and we are 200 miles apart. I am feeling the weight of caring responsibilities aswell as not wanting to leave her every time I go, wondering if it will be the last time I see her. What happens after thoughts are continually coming into my head as if preparing for the next chapter 🙏
Oh Nikita....Thank you for sharing him with us. I read this post at least 3 times, and vivid images of a hand with Mahmoud Darwish's poetry flashed in front of me, an image of a young Nikita gently taking it and reading it under a lantern... or the lamp of anticipatory joy from her own heart inundated my imagination. I wonder what happens to the human physiology as memories fade, and our souls can't express through this palpable edifice composed of flesh and blood and anomalous molecules and cells that we reside in..... My axons and dendrons sent so many impulses up and down my breath, and I could feel tears trickling down my face.
I often think of my relationship with "home", with the land where my ancestors planted their roots. I was an eldest child. The parents that I owe my existence to resented me and tried to take my breath away and send me back to the expansive space composed of hydrogen and carbon and elements that the stars are made of. But destiny had other plans. My maternal grandmother found me delirious, with a fever, sexually abused and shaking when I was 5 years old. I had taken solace behind a tiny hut that smelled of cardamom. Even if my mother didn't want me, her dupatta smelled of "elaichi".... How I craved my mother's touch. But my nani scooped me up and made me Bajri ki roti. Her favourite raag was Tilakkamod, and she sang me the most beautiful tunes. She fed me.. And I slept in her lap for days. Her name was Tara.... meaning stars!
That deep care that she gave me for those 4 days lit up a lamp in my heart. That no matter where I go, her love would save me and soothe me. And even if she wasn't ever with me in the flesh, her healing love stays with me, tucked in a sanctimonious alcove in the shrines of my soul and being. In 2011, I found out she was visiting a relative in the United States. I was in a homeless shelter, but I took 5 buses and 4 days and I found her. She had Alzheimers, and she couldn't remember me. I started singing raag Tilakkamod and I saw her eyes light up. I slept in her lap for days and days. We ate Bajri Ki Roti. I bathed her. Brushed her hair and showed her the stars and told her it was her shine that kept the sky ablaze.
2 months later she left this planet. And I still cry...But I am so grateful I got a few days with my shiny star. My Tara Nani.
I'm sending you so so much love Nikita. Hugging your heart from afar...Thank you for taking me to a space that means so much to me, my Nani's memory. I hope you get the rest and rejuvenation. I hope healing embraces you, I hope your heart feels held and loved.
Thank you for your beautiful heart and tender spirit as always, Preeti ❤️
dementia is so incredible hard to witness. just lost my grandfather to alzheimer’s last year and it’s awful to see the minds of people deteriorate beyond their control. sending love 🧡
I am so deeply sorry for your loss. I keep thinking how hard and terrifying it must be for the person going through it while we can do so little to help them. 💔
it’s so hard but the most important thing is to continue showing up 🫶🏻
Yes. Exactly this ❤️
Oh sweet one. Thank you for sharing your tender heart with us. And thank you for allowing us, inviting us, to get to know your beautiful grandfather. I ache for your ache. During times, when I was awaiting the end of a beloved’s life, a dear friend said these words - “at the end of each day, thank them for another day”. And while your grandfather may be losing his ability to know you in the ways our minds understand, I know that he is not forgetting you. You are him; he is you. And the words you share you share because of the LOVE he has for you. I appreciate so much you sharing your words at such a painful and sorrowful time. Holding your heart from here dear one. XOXO
Thank you so much for this beautiful and generous comment. It is full of wisdom and kindness and I needed it more than I can say today. Thank you again ❤️
Oh, Nikita, what a beautiful tribute to your Grandfather and what a gift you are to him as he navigates something so scary. May he find deep comfort in all the memories and stories you share with him.
Lost my Mum to dementia 5 years ago so I deeply relate to what you've shared here.
Sending much love to you, your Grandfather and your whole family ❤️
I am so sorry for your loss, Monica 💔
I didn’t get to spend long enough this time around with my grandparents, and I hope I get another chance to spend longer with them next time. How much we hold onto love and hope in the end, our only comforts in the chaos of illness and the world.
Sending you love
It is enough, what you give back to him is enough. I had a similar relationship with my gran, she was my creative and spiritual guide, and she also got dementia. Your story here echoes my own feelings at the time - she had held me, cared for me, given me stories, and ideas, and encouragement and love, and I wanted to give all that back to her. It was hard, she became the child, I was the adult. But what a privilege to walk someone home. They raise us, and we walk them home... And yes they live within us and through us... 🤍🤍🤍
Nikita, thank you for sharing this beautiful piece of love for your grandfather with us. I am sending deep love and warmth to you. May grief meet you with grace. <3
I was reminded by your mention of telling your grandfather the stories he used to tell you that I did the same for my grandmother when she was dying, nearly a decade ago now. I went to her home and collected a stack of children's books she used to read to me. I brought them to the hospital bedside. It was my turn to read to her. How humbling, this role reversal. It felt like rehearsing for a world without her in it, to read aloud the words she first read to me. Thank you for reminding me of this sweet moment.
I love you, and this is beyond beautiful. You’ve captured an element of grief that is so hard to describe - living grief, and pieces of them disappearing so slowly, it seems impossible to hold it all.
I remember well the years I was in grief while my mother lived with dementia and and a oxygen tank. I came to understand her during those years when unlike your magnificent relationship with your grandfather mine with my mother was complicated. I had to find forgiveness, understanding, empathy for her alcoholism, her trauma which I could never find the truth of, the loss of her to me. It still feels odd to have been grieving for her even when she was still alive. Your touch on that here is deeply felt and I send you time, space and breath.
A beautiful tribute that feels like it was placed in my lap for just this moment. I lost my grandmother to dementia last month. I connect so deeply to your description of your grandfather as your storytellers voice; so much of how I see myself is through the ways she shaped me. And I’m not so far on the other side that I’ve forgotten the exact anticipatory grief you describe. Dementia is a death by a thousand cuts and it’s a tremendous hardship. Sending your family abundant love, and especially your grandfather. May his legacy be a blessing to you and your loved ones forever.
I also didn’t realize until this exact moment that I, too, am the oldest daughter of an oldest daughter. Caregiving embedded and encoded deeply in my body. Chewing on that.
Sending love and a deep, deep understanding. ❤️
Thank you for sharing your heart ❤️
Reading this really resonated with how I am feeling at present. I too am the eldest daughter of an eldest daughter. My mum has been unwell for a while now and we are 200 miles apart. I am feeling the weight of caring responsibilities aswell as not wanting to leave her every time I go, wondering if it will be the last time I see her. What happens after thoughts are continually coming into my head as if preparing for the next chapter 🙏