Forgotten

Dad says she will be safe here, that she will be taken care of. I believe him but it doesn't mean I like it. Since I was a little baby, I have stayed with my Granny. Mom and dad were busy with their jobs but it didn't matter cause Granny was always there. She got me dressed, packed my tiffin, helped me with my homework, told me bedtime stories, ran after me when I got mischievous, and when I got a bit older, gossiped with me. We would go out for walks, drink tea in the evening and make fritters together anytime it rained, and hug me tight when life got hard. All through it, she has been my indestructible rock.

Now, my support system is being left here in this place, where hardly anyone smiles, there are so many old people and everything is so... white. Dad says we are not leaving her, that we are going to visit her often, that I can visit anytime, but he left out the fact how painful it's gonna be every time. He left out the fact that after the first month, he is going to leave her alone, like he always does when things get difficult. There is just one difference this time. Granny will not be picking up his slack. One thing we always found hilarious that despite being the most organized person, my sweet sweet grandmother always forgot things. "Old age", She used to say and I always refuted by saying she is my cool and young granny. She would let out a chuckle at that and then kiss me on the nose. 

That was our normal. 

Though, according to Dad, it was not, and for the longest time, I fought with him on it. Because, isn’t it normal for people to forget where they kept their specs, forget sugar in a dessert they have been making  for years, forget a phone number, forget why they were in a room, forget where they were going, forget where they are, forget they have a son or even forget their own name?

Apparently, it wasn’t normal. They all said it wasn’t, that it was a disease, but I never could accept it. And why would I? When even after forgetting everything, she never forgot me. When she forgot her specs, she called for me; when she got lost in the neighborhood, she shouted my name, and when she couldn’t figure out who she was, she clinked to my hand like I was her lifeline and not the other way around. 

I tried to fix it too. I gave her a small diary with every detail she needed, put a tracker in her phone so we could find her when she wandered without her wits, accompanied her to every doctor’s appointment and never left her side unless absolutely necessary. 

But diseases like Alzheimer's can’t be fixed.

So here we are, at this dull as hell place, away from the apartment she called home for so many years. She thinks Dad is having a transfer and due to some documents issue, she can’t come with us. I guess that’s for the best. 

There are many people like her– all oldies. There are nurses, doctors, volunteers and visitors. But the place itself is worse than a hospital. 

I tell her exactly what I think as she is braiding my hair sitting at the edge of the bed while I am sitting cross legged on the floor for her. 

Granny with her everlasting optimistic nature tells me that it doesn’t matter how the place looks if the people are nice and I come often to visit her. I smile as a lone tear falls down my cheek. 

For the first time in life, someone is abandoning me because they have no other choice.

Because as I look at my dearest Granny from the corner of the room, I see how much she loves me, even if the person she thinks is her granddaughter is one of the volunteers. Because in her eyes, her doll is still 15 years old sitting in front of her talking to her and telling her about school as she braids her hair, while I stand in this corner, watching as the only person who I ever truly loved, has my existence forgotten.