35. For My Life to Exist
I used to think it was weird when my mum would have a panic attack if I didn’t pick up the phone or text back soon enough. She would call ten times, text, and Facebook messages. If she still couldn’t get ahold of me she would get in her car to come to find me.
It was only a few years ago that I heard the story for the first time.
My grandfather had a heart attack and died in my grandmother’s arms in the back of a taxicab in Thailand after being turned away from the hospital. He was a diplomat and they didn’t want the trouble of a foreign dignitary dying in their hospital. He was 45.
My mother was 14 and on vacation with her friend from boarding school. After the funeral, my grandmother wound up in a psych ward for two years doing electro-shock treatment. My uncle tried to kill himself and also wound up in the hospital. My aunt up and moved to Scotland.
No one ever talked about him. I knew he had a heart attack but I always thought he died in his sleep. I have only ever seen two pictures of him. And yet my grandmother insists that my brother and I are just like him.
The strangest part is, if he hadn’t died, my mother would never have been in the position to meet my father and neither my brother nor I would exist.
This horrible tragedy ruined my family’s life and also created space for my life to exist.