#Blessed: Nanna

This post is a part of a series called #Blessed, an effort to recognize a blessing in every day.

When I was in elementary or middle school, I recall writing something about my grandmother, Nanna, being one of my role models. She doesn’t talk much and busies herself in worship—that was something I always admired about her. She took extra long performing her prayers, always had a tasbeeh in hand, and kept her little Quran out. Any breaks I noticed would be to eat or nap.

When Nanna stayed over our house, my mom would tell me to warm up her food at lunch. She’d be so un-picky in her food. She’d take a little of everything, warm it up, and enjoy. I’d think, wow, I complain because I ate the same thing two meals in a row. And Nanna was just happy to try whatever was already in the fridge. When I would try to help her pour it in her plate and stick in the microwave, she’d apologize for bothering me so much, “Mei bahut satayi tumko.” As if it was a bother…literally the only thing she’d ask me to do is start the microwave, hardly a one second job. Even when she finished eating, she insisted she wash her own dishes.

More recently, Nanna’s been experiencing hearing loss. Over the years, it’s become more difficult to hold a conversation. Although from what I noticed, she was always the type of person who simply enjoyed your company and seeing your face since she was never exactly a chatterbox. She was comfortable in silence.

I visited her earlier today, and it seems her face always lights up when we walk into her room to give our salaams. She’ll ask the same questions: how are you doing, when did you get in town, are you happy, did your mom come with you, did you eat. And for each question, I’d do my best to round out my lips, speak a little louder than normal, and gesture. Of course, my Urdu isn’t exactly on point…so the louder I talk, the more I worry my aunt in the other room will hear me fail at two things: 1) speaking loudly, and 2) speaking Urdu. But it always ends up being more of a funny situation than a frustrating or sad one. Nanna somehow manages to understand my soft spoken and broken Urdu, and my aunt usually comes to the rescue and repeats what I say loud and proper enough that my grandmother will register it.

Today, Nanna asked me funny questions about marriage. It really put a big smile on my face—and I’m sure that answered her questions better than any words I tried to express. Alhamdulillah.

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