That White Thread.

My grandmother passed away in 2004, not long after I graduated. It was an honour to have been able to care for her during her final days before she finally took her last breath. I remembered the night after my late grandmother was buried, the still devastated me went into her bedroom and checked out her clothes which were nicely wrapped on the side of her bed. I took one of her favourite black shirt and carefully examined it. I noticed one part of the seem was torn and she mended it with a very visible white thread. It brought tears to my eyes.

Growing up my parents used to fight a lot. Therefore I used to go to my grandmother house and just sit by her side listening to her rambles (which I had listened to for a hundred times already). She was a very cheerful character. However as she aged, she also gradually loss her hearing ability to one stage where she could no longer hear at all, and she refused to use or wear hearing aid. She was practically deaf in her old age. But, she never ceased to be cheerful, calm, peaceful and loving. Sitting by her side whenever I was facing a hard time, always cheered me up for no other reason than because she was a happy person who radiated love and happiness despite being deaf. I love her.

That night as I saw that white thread and remembered all the things about her and how her very presence gave me comfort without actually doing anything at all, I broke down and I cried for the last time.She was the white thread, shining glow in my often black dark days.

She taught me a lot but most of all she reminded me that being a loving, cheerful, and happy person you can do a lot to other people. You don’t need to do much. Just give off that sincere, earnest feeling of being happy whatever state you are in.

RIP grandmother. I miss you.