Exactly a month ago, on the 7th of December, my maternal grandfather passed away. Quietly, without much of a fuss or bother... just the way he would have wanted. Thatha was 80 and just a few months before, we had celebrated his 80th birthday quite grandly. He then spent a bit of time with family in the US and probably visited everyone he ever knew there. His last couple of months at Chennai too were spent much the same way, visiting people and showering them with his trademark"God Bless You's!" It was almost as if he knew that his time was limited.
So, from a quite logical viewpoint, there is nothing very shocking or upsetting about the death of an 80 year old who has lived a long and mostly contented life with parents, siblings, wife, children, grandchildren and even great grandchildren. Logically, I understand the circle of life and death. Emotionally, I find it difficult to believe that each time I visit the flat my grandparents lived in for the last 10 years and where I lived for 3 years, thatha won't be around to open the door. I find it hard to see my usually tough-as-a-cookie grandmother, suddenly looking fragile and older than her 75 years, living alone in their flat. I think what I find most difficult to accept is the finality that death brings.
When my paternal grandpa passed on 20 years ago, I was a child and only vaguely understood what was happening. Since then, I have not been so closely associated to someone who died...till now. Memories of life with my thatha flash through my mind daily- of him swinging me on his feet when I was four, the number of Parker pens he gifted me through school, Sunday morning brunch at Drive-in Woodlands during summer vacation in Madras, our shared humor at being academic black sheep in our families, a sudden surge in life for both grandparents when I moved into their place for a few years, his concern about my fare arguments with the Chennai auto drivers outside his apt gate (never mind that I found out later that he was actually tipping the same guys I bargained with!!), his happiness at my cousin's marriage and mine that followed soon, seeing his two great grandchildren and most recently his excitement (that he sometimes tried to hide, unsuccessfully) at his Shadabhishekam conducted by his daughters and grandchildren.
I would like to think that my living with thatha and paati for 3 years gave them both a sense of renewed purpose and happiness. I definitely enjoyed living with them, doing up their house in small measures with my grandmom and treating them both to an occasional dinner especially at the Saravana Bhavan weigh and eat buffet where they both constantly compared who ate more!!
While I miss my thatha and wish he was still alive, like my daughter I would like to believe God called him away as He was bored and wanted company. He is probably up somewhere, feasting on "vigtables" and sending a load of "God Bless You's" down our way.