Eulogy for My Grandmother Essay Example

📌Category: Experience, Family, Life
📌Words: 1068
📌Pages: 4
📌Published: 14 January 2022

Never in my life have I thought I would write about this. When my brother Aakash told me “You have to write a eulogy for grandmother’s funeral”, a stream of memories hit me faster than a bullet train. It was not the fact I had to draft this speech multiple times, it was the fact I had too many great memories with the person who was my second mother.

My family struggled financially during the same time I was born, my mother made decisions she knew she cannot take back. After three months when I was born, my grandmother was approved for her visa to come to the United States, she could not enjoy her stay due to assisting my mother to balance her life like a clown juggling knives in a circus. My mother made the decision, and my grandmother and I were off to India, where my mother knew her kid will be taken care of by a family of her own. She missed to realize she will never see her boy’s first steps, hear his first word, smile at his first tumble, laugh with his first giggle, and many memories she can only imagine. On my 1st birthday, the small living room in a two-story home in the middle of a village was filled with kids that were happy about ice cream and cake, while the adults stressed about making the décor perfect for photos. My grandma held me up in her hands trying to cheer a whiny, teary kid from missing his mom. I made several visits to my parent’s apartment; however, I was in a boarding school till I was five years old.

On my grandfather’s 65th birthday, the household often was filled with joy and laughter. The grandfather sacrificed his early twenties to thirties as a vendor in the humid streets of India, knowing this will put his kids and grandkids in a better place in life. I told my grandma “I am hungry, can you cut up some mangoes for me?”, with a precious smile on her face she told me, “let’s go to the kitchen”. After she cut me two mangoes in a small, silver tray, she got up from our brown oak wooden bench in the middle of my high ceiling, built-in a chandelier, the living room facing in the front. She sat on a brown leather L-shaped couch, several minutes later, everybody heard a boom, everyone curiously ran into the area where the sound came from. I saw my mother gasp like she had seen a ghost, she started screaming “AKSHAY, AKSHAY, AKSHAYY come quick”. I immediately scurried to the living room, saw my grandmother laying on the carpet. Me knowing little to no knowledge about CPR, attempted to perform CPR but there was no response. My mother bolted to find her phone, dialed 911, and started screaming with the operator. Moments later, the ambulance arrived at my blue house with two paramedics rushing like they were racing. They picked up my grandma, turned on the red-alarming siren where everyone could hear from a mile away. My mom started immediately calling everybody, my father, my brother, my aunts, and my uncle.

The hospital contacted us whether we wanted to keep my grandmother on the ventilator or make a substituted judgment that would let her go. My family often was in one room where my grandmother was bed-siding. The doctor thoroughly explained what the consequences would be if she ate from a feed tube, ventilator, and least importantly the cost. Each face had a sulk you can not forget, then my mother started bursting out crying knowing she should lose her mother. We decided to let her go for the best, funeral arrangements were made quickly as a camera snapshot. The news spread like a forest fire, by the time we got home there were cars parked outside of the neighborhood, friends and family came over to our house to wish us condolences for our loss. At one point, the house was completely silent with more faces.. 

I started writing my eulogy in my father’s office, on the wooden floor with the ikea desk raised all the way with the black stained leather chair. I sat for hours upon end waiting due to the memories I wanted to share but some were too personal to share at that time. On the day of the funeral, May 10th, 2017, we wore white outfits because in my religion, Hinduism, it is used to show respect to the departed and the family. She was dressed up in a pink, sparkly sari my mother purchased for her. After a close family friend finished their speech, they called me on stage to read my speech. I was not this nervous since hundreds of people were seated with white clothes, in a chilly room, with a box shaped inside.  In this surreal moment, where everybody was staring at me as I proceeded towards the stage. I said “Hello, we all are gathering today to wish my grandmother goodbye”, through the peripheral of my eye I see my mother crying seeing her son doing a speech in front of hundreds of people. My speech ended quickly, shortly after each row was called to place a flower as a ritual before the cementation. The sorrow in people’s faces was not pleasing but neither was knowing you will never see this person again. My family was called last, each one-off gave her a flower, touched her feet as a sign of respect, and I asked for her blessings for my future endeavors. As soon as we finished, my mom said “Akshay, your grandmother is leaving forever”, out of nowhere I started bawling my eyes out like a kid whose parents did not buy them candy. She was in a cart, the embalmer led her to the cementation machine, and she was loaded. My family held each other’s hand, and my grandfather pressed the red release button. After the day of the funeral, you can look at everybody’s face and see they were still trying to understand what had happened. My grandfather was in complete awe since the last time he was by himself was before he got married. Even with nine people, her presence was missing, and the house felt empty like a pocket.

My eulogy was not only a speech, but it was also a sincere goodbye to my grandmother. The lack of medical knowledge I had still disappoints me, however, inspires me to pursue in the medical field to serve others and my own family. I reminisce about the times we had together, she was not only my grandmother, but she was a best friend. Her scrumptious dish she always fed me, yellow sizzling rice with white creamy yogurt on top, with round roti’s (flatbread) on the side and her freshly cut up mouthwatering fruit in a mini bowl.

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