The Letters... the pages have turned yellow, the words seemed a little bit faded, and as I held them in my hands a smile comes on my face. Memories of a sweet childhood flashes across my mind. These letters were written by my maternal grandfather. He was more then my grandfather...the bond that we shared was something that I couldn't put into words.I lovingly called him 'Dita'. I am the eldest of all my cousins and was kind of proud and happy of all the attention that I used to get when I was young.
My grandfather doted upon me. We used to play games...talk...laugh and go for long walks. I still remember the evening walks when I walked along with my grandfather,holding his hand. 'Dita' was also a great story-teller. Every afternoon after lunch, I would sit on his lap and bug him to tell stories; and after that begins my journey into the mystical and magical lands where there are prince and princesses, animals that talk...evil witches...carpets that can fly and so many things.
As time passed by things changed.. my mom and I shifted to a different city. I grew older...new school..new friends, everything was so new! But that didn't stop 'Dita' and me from sharing our new experiences, we started writing letters to each other. He wrote beautifully. I wrote him back..sometimes I sent him pictures that I drew. Every letter he wrote, was like a story to me. In every letter he taught me something new. In his letters, 'Dita' always encouraged me to work hard and to be sincere in whatever I do in my life.
Years passed by... I got into college. I got busy with my studies... friends... parties. In all the hustle and bustle of life, I didn't had time to write anymore letters to 'Dita'. He also got busy with his new grandchildren, telling stories and playing games..just like we used to do. But I was always in touch with him, through phone calls and the frequent visits, only that it was not like before.
'Dita' was growing old. He became thin and frail, but he never forgot to greet us with a smile whenever we visited him. Slowly, as time passed by, he became older..memories started to fade. He was suffering from dementia- a disease where the brain loses its functions and affects memory, thinking and behavior.
During his last days, he almost forgot everything, he responded to no one except my grandmother. I was angry and deeply sad ...angry at 'how could this happen to my 'Dita' and sad that 'he no longer remembered me..nor will he ever tell me stories and write letters'. The last time I saw him, he was sitting on his chair under the warm rays of sun. I touched his feet, but he didn't respond. He was completely oblivious of his surroundings, lost in the land of the magical fairy tales. 'Dita' breathed his last on December 2011.
Few days back, my mother laminated the letters that 'Dita' wrote to me. As I hold those letters in my hand now, I feel happy and proud that I had a grandfather, who loved me so much and whose love is preserved forever not only in my heart but also in those letters that he wrote so lovingly to his grand daughter.
My grandfather doted upon me. We used to play games...talk...laugh and go for long walks. I still remember the evening walks when I walked along with my grandfather,holding his hand. 'Dita' was also a great story-teller. Every afternoon after lunch, I would sit on his lap and bug him to tell stories; and after that begins my journey into the mystical and magical lands where there are prince and princesses, animals that talk...evil witches...carpets that can fly and so many things.
As time passed by things changed.. my mom and I shifted to a different city. I grew older...new school..new friends, everything was so new! But that didn't stop 'Dita' and me from sharing our new experiences, we started writing letters to each other. He wrote beautifully. I wrote him back..sometimes I sent him pictures that I drew. Every letter he wrote, was like a story to me. In every letter he taught me something new. In his letters, 'Dita' always encouraged me to work hard and to be sincere in whatever I do in my life.
Years passed by... I got into college. I got busy with my studies... friends... parties. In all the hustle and bustle of life, I didn't had time to write anymore letters to 'Dita'. He also got busy with his new grandchildren, telling stories and playing games..just like we used to do. But I was always in touch with him, through phone calls and the frequent visits, only that it was not like before.
'Dita' was growing old. He became thin and frail, but he never forgot to greet us with a smile whenever we visited him. Slowly, as time passed by, he became older..memories started to fade. He was suffering from dementia- a disease where the brain loses its functions and affects memory, thinking and behavior.
During his last days, he almost forgot everything, he responded to no one except my grandmother. I was angry and deeply sad ...angry at 'how could this happen to my 'Dita' and sad that 'he no longer remembered me..nor will he ever tell me stories and write letters'. The last time I saw him, he was sitting on his chair under the warm rays of sun. I touched his feet, but he didn't respond. He was completely oblivious of his surroundings, lost in the land of the magical fairy tales. 'Dita' breathed his last on December 2011.
Few days back, my mother laminated the letters that 'Dita' wrote to me. As I hold those letters in my hand now, I feel happy and proud that I had a grandfather, who loved me so much and whose love is preserved forever not only in my heart but also in those letters that he wrote so lovingly to his grand daughter.
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