v3
My 12-year old teaches me how to love and how to grieve.
Holding my grandmother's pink saree close to her,
she washes the delicate fabric with her tears.
Her tender age knows no decorum nor obligations,
just the pure expression of love and loss,
of a beloved great-grandmother.
In this technological age,
she texts her great-grandmother (whose phone is still on earth),
expressing her gratitude for the money and saree left to her.
The rupees, in an envelope with her name on it,
converts to one Singapore dollar.
The thought behind it brings her fresh tears,
for it says
her great grandmother remembered her.
She receives this gift as manna and not a right.
She plans to wear the saree for her coming-of-age ceremony, thus keeping her great grandmother with her at this life event.
What a way to honour and remember a beloved.
Who knows how she may change, as she grows and learns the ways of the world.
At this precise moment, aged 12, this is how she loves and grieves.
Teach me, my love, teach me, so I too may grow.
v2
My 12 year old teaches me how to love and how to grieve.
Holding my grandmother's saree close to her,
she washes the delicate fabric with her tears.
Her tender age knows no decorum nor obligations,
just the pure expression of love and loss
of a beloved great-grandmother.
In this technological age,
she texts her great-grandmother (whose phone is still on earth),
expressing her gratitude for the money and saree left to her.
The money converts to one Sing dollar.
It is not the monetary value that she treasures.
It is the thought behind it that brings her fresh tears, for it says her great grandmother remembered her.
For that, she gives thanks.
What can be purer than that - to receive every gift as manna and not a right. She teaches me thus to love, to receive and give.
She wishes to wear the saree for her coming-of-age ceremony, thereby keeping her great grandmother with her at this life event. What a way to honour and remember a beloved.
Who knows how she may change, as she grows and learns the ways of the world.
At this precise moment, aged 12, this is how she loves and grieves.
Teach me, my love, teach me so I too may grow.
19 Mar 2021
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My 12 year old teaches me how to love and how to grieve. Holding my grandmother's saree close to her,
she wets the delicate fabric with her gentle tears.
Her tender age knows no decorum nor obligations,
just a pure expression of love and loss of a beloved great grandmother.
In this technological age,
she texts her great grandmother (whose phone is still on earth),
expressing her gratitude for the money and saree left to her,
grateful for tokens of remembrance.
The money is around 1 Sing dollar
but it is not the monetary value that she treasures.
It is the thought behind it that brings her fresh tears, for it says her great grandmother remembered her.
For that that gives thanks, a thanks with no expectations.
What can be purer than that? To receive every gift as manna and not a right. She teaches me thus to love, to receive and give.
She wishes to wear the saree for her coming of age ceremony, thereby keeping her great grandmother with her at this life event. What greater way to honour and remember a beloved?
Who knows how she may change, as she grows and learns the ways of the world.
At this precise moment, aged 1w, this is how she loves and grieves.
Teach me, my love, teach me so I too may grow.
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