To my Daadosa

A letter to my departed grandfather

I have grown up a lot since you’ve gone and consequently realized the understated purity and love of the relationship that we had.

It started with me being an extremely chatty kid talking to you through mirrors while taking care of my business in the loo (don’t judge me, I was just a preschooler). It was strengthened by you always taking my side (sometimes wrongfully so) in my fights with Didi (my elder sister). Being the honest person that you were, you would blatantly accept how you had favorites among your grandchildren.

You always told me to study well (one of the few things I was good at), and passed down your love for food and midnight snacking on to me.

In between speaking casually to you a day before your death (weirdly it was my birthday) and not being able to be there with you or the family during the funeral, I don’t think I ever really processed your death.

I am not going to lie and say that I miss you everyday or that we had that super special kind of grandfather-granddaughter bond written about in stories. To be honest, I don’t think I even standby all your actions and decisions with regards to our family.

But I do feel a strong emotion in my stomach (I am guessing because of our shared love for food) every time I think of you or talk to someone remembering you. And lastly, I admire the strong person I remember you to be.

Your youngest grandchild.