It has been more than seven years, since the last time I prepared the bread for her. Ten minutes walking to the hospital, I arrived with a box containing her favourite bread and jams. Bread that grandma always bakes, it's my favourite too. She was disappointed that I had not spread the jam over the bread. She scolded me. I was upset, I vanished out the room,I went away. My ego and emotion dragged me from understanding what she really meant and needed. I never wanted to go back to the hospital. I could not accept it that she did not see my effort as something worth smiling for, but now I could not forgive myself that I never returned and served her big-heartedly. I regretted it.
Early in the morning, exactly two nights later, the sky was being an awfully immature friend. He poured down his tears so badly as if he was losing something valuable. He downed me for sure. Everyone knew that it was 15 December 2005, her birthday. All day long, they came to the hospital with presents and flowers. They gathered and prayed for her cure. I sat down at the corner and was reminded of the bread I wronged her with. I reluctantly smiled, my chicks got wet. Suddenly, my grandma went out from the ICU room, calling someone in rampant voice she said, "Her spirit has just left her." All at once, my energy flew up to the altitude. I was shocked and silenced. That was her birthday, when she went to the eternity.
On 6 February 2013, by the tomb, I sat and wept. Grieving for a role model in my life. The brightest woman I have ever known, the most generous person that I was once so close with and a great vocal coach who handled me sincebthe very birth of my singing. I recalled the day where I was renewed to please her, was actually the day I was too late to regret. She flung up to heaven to experience the greatest love of all, that will never fail her for even a bread matter. Golda Monalisa, Some Aunt.
