The Last Time I Didn’t Know It Was the Last Time — A Writing Challenge

New Year’s Day will never feel the same again. I never knew it was my granny’s last New Year.

Source: Netflix ‘s One Day

On 31st December 2023, I reached my university early because there were no train reservations available after that week. A few of my friends were already there, and everyone was celebrating the New Year.

But I was full of regret. I felt I had made a mistake by not staying home.

Because it was my granny.

I should have stayed with her.

She was admitted to the hospital on the night of 1 January, and I didn’t know. The next morning, I got a call. Everyone was crying.

I was 1,340 km away from home.

A flight cost around ₹15,000, which I couldn’t afford. Even if I somehow managed it, I would have needed to change flights and spend nearly ten hours travelling. The train journey takes almost twenty-three hours.

I felt numb.

I searched for every possible way to get home. But I couldn’t make it in time to see her one last time.

Then I got a video call.

I cried.

It was really her.

I couldn’t hold her. I couldn’t hug her tightly.

She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t smile. She couldn’t look at me through the screen.

She was sleeping.

And for the first time, there was no sound of her snoring.

It was the last time.

I called her name. My foolish mind wanted her to wake up and answer me.

A friend was sitting with me in my room. I wanted to tell him something I had never said out loud.

I believed I was one of the biggest reasons for her suffering.

It was because of me.

After I accidentally pushed her, she fell and had to undergo leg surgery for the second time. After that surgery, she could never walk again.

I had made her a promise.

I told her I would buy her a remote-controlled wheelchair and take her to the beach she had always wanted to see.

It was the only wish of hers that I truly knew.

But I never knew it would be the last time.

She had lost both of her parents when she was very young and grew up in her uncle’s house. Yet she seldom spoke about them.

After she passed away, I watched a few videos on my mom’s phone.

In those final days, she kept crying,

“God, save me. Mom, come to me.”

Hearing her call out for her mother after all those decades broke something inside me.

No matter how old we become, when we are scared, a part of us is still just a child looking for our parents.

Then she said something that broke me.

“They took my grandson from me. I have to save him, no matter what.”

Out of everyone, she remembered me.

She spoke as if I were right there in front of her. In her hallucinations, I wasn’t eighteen anymore.

I was six.

Just a little boy again.

I couldn’t put my grief into words.

There are very few photos of her in our family albums. Somehow, none of them feel like my real granny. They captured her face, but never the lively spirit she carried.

I loved her.

But she loved me more.

She never blamed me for her injury.

From her, I learned what forgiveness really means.

We shared the same temper and the same stubbornness. Even today, people say my loud arguments and pride came from her.

But she was kinder.

I am nothing compared to her.

Every New Year, I wish I could meet her again.

And I believe I will.

Because I made her a promise.

Source: Pinterest

Rishita Sharma💗 Sriram Yaladandi. Here is my story.

*This piece is written for Pen With Papers’ writing challenge — “The Last Time I Didn’t Know It Was the Last Time.” Write about an ordinary moment that only became unforgettable after it was gone. Find the challenge link below.*

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