Being Interested Can Be the Greatest Gift

We were preparing to move to America. I was 12 years old. My grandmother, who had raised me exclusively from age 1 to 6 and intermittently after that, asked me if I wanted to go take a look at her new apartment where she will reside upon our departure. Without a second thought, I told her no, I had plans to hang out with friends. She did not ask me again. A month later, my parents, my brother, my sister, and I boarded a giant airplane headed for the U.S. I never got to see my grandmother's apartment. Two years later, she passed away.

I often try to imagine in my mind where and how she lived after we left. But I cannot see it. I have no memory of it, because I didn't bother to take an interest in the person that I loved the most and whose love I took for granted. It is one of my biggest regrets.

Today, I asked my kids if they would like to go look at my university campus where I will be spending much of my time for the next two years. Without a second thought, they said, no, they had other important and more interesting things to do.

Now I sit here wondering if my grandmother was as disappointed as I am now... and if my actions indicated to her that I had no interest in knowing any details about her life.




This song keeps playing in my head...