A 10-year-old girl’s fight to keep hope alive for her paralyzed grandma

 By Mehak Minocha

I was 10 years old when my grandmother suffered a paralytic attack which ended up making her paralyzed on her entire left side.

My mother, who is a teacher, took on the role of primary caregiver, a duty she performed with tireless dedication. My sister and I shared responsibilities, helping with everything from bathing and feeding to medications and physical therapy exercises. We hired a part-time maid, but we made sure that we were always around to help grandmother.

At such a young age, seeing my grandmother, to whom I would run to every time I had a problem, was very heart-wrenching. The person who used to run after me to feed me, bathe me, and take care of me when I got ill was now lying on the bed unable to even go to the bathroom.

The roles were reversed. It was my time to take care of my paralyzed grandmother and make sure that she felt comfortable. A certain sense of responsibility grew over me.

My grandmother, Urmil Minocha, called as Uma by her loved ones, had always been the vibrant centre of our family. Her laughter was the melody that played at every gathering, her wisdom the anchor in times of turmoil.

She was a woman with a strong will power and a heart of gold. She was not a person who would sit idle at home even at her age, she loved to work, loved to travel, loved to socialize. She was the head of branch at my grandfather’s factory, opened her own boutique, even ran her own restaurant as she loved cooking.

She was a multi-tasker. Not only a workaholic, but she was a fashionista as well. She was so full of life and vigour. But life has a way of changing the script when you least expect it.

Our family dynamics changed following her paralysis

When she got paralyzed, the doctors were unsure if she would ever walk again. As we faced this new reality, our family dynamics began to change. Our home that was full of laughter was now filled with medical equipment and visiting nurses.

It wasn’t easy on my family especially my mother who had to play multiple roles of a teacher, a mother, a wife, a daughter-in-law and a caregiver. She was exhausted as well as frustrated. In fact, we all were. It not only affected us physically but mentally as well.

But we learned the true meaning of family and support during these days. We all thought she’ll be better in no time but as time went by, we couldn’t see any improvement.

She was a fighter, but her will to fight ended the day my grandfather passed away. That day all the courage I saw in her and admired went away. Day by day her condition worsened, she refused physiotherapy, refused eating, and gradually became very thin and frail.

It was not easy to see my grandma going down

It was terrifying to watch your loved one lying paralyzed. It broke us from within and all I could do was question God, why her? She was a wonderful person. What did she do to deserve this?

As years passed by, we got used to taking care of her, but now her condition had started affecting her mental health as well. She used to shout continuously for medicines as she believed that would help her sleep.

I couldn’t bear seeing her like this and even shouted at her a few times, which later left me with a lot of guilt. I was in Class VII and lacked the maturity and understanding to deal with such a situation.

Despite all this, I grew closer to my paralyzed grandmother.  I began to sleep at her side. She used to ask me to sing her favourite song ‘Jeena Jeena’  and then we even used to listen to our go to Bhajan to help her sleep (I still listen to it every night).

One night, while we were talking, she motioned me to come closer and said, “Makku, this isn’t the end of my story. It is just a new chapter. Don’t let this change how you see me.” I nodded, not trusting myself to speak without my voice cracking. “I’m still the same person inside. Do not take all this on yourself and don’t question God, he does everything for a reason. And when I go Dil chota mat karna, aage badhna.” Her words resonated deeply.

The day she died, I had my final exams the next day. I did not sleep in her room the previous night in order to prepare myself for my exam. Little did I know I was going to witness her death the next day.

A huge guilt crept over me, leaving my mind filled with questions: why did I not go to her room last night? Am I that horrible? Maybe she would be alive if I had gone to her? Did I do enough for her? Was I a good granddaughter? One thing that still haunts me is how could I leave her alone whilst she was taking her last breaths…

Those five years taught me how life is uncertain and how not only the patient but the people taking care of them suffer alongside them and made me acknowledge the sacrifice and strength showed by the family.

After her passing away, the house felt empty without her laughter, her stories, her warmth. But she left behind a legacy of love and resilience that we carry with us every day. We all hope we did everything we could to make even a tiny bit of her sufferings go away. We hope we were a good family to her and made her feel loved.

Her spirit lives on in the heart of those who knew and loved her. She will never be forgotten.

I hope I will meet her one day.

Read also:

What I learnt while managing my ageing mother
Don’t let caregiver burnout overwhelm you