When One Is No Longer A Child

By: Nanju Francisco

I didn’t see it at first. I thought those neighborhood children were just playing in front of our yard when I realized it was far from that. Those rascals were throwing stones at our front window, where my grandmother sat, enjoying the wonderful blue sky. Anger surged through me. I couldn't bear to see my poor grandmother helplessly watching those terrible kids.

I quickly rushed to the porch and shouted at them. They made all kinds of faces. Ones that I never wanted to see again.   One of them had left his ball in our yard, and I kicked it with all my might. It flew out of sight. Good! That would teach them not to mess with me.

I stormed back into the house, furious. My grandmother, seemingly indifferent, sat quietly. I couldn't believe she was acting as if nothing had happened. Frustration welled up inside me.

"What were those loathsome kids doing in our yard?" I demanded. But she remained silent.

"Well?" I asked indignantly. "You could have at least asked them not to step on my roses! What am I going to do with you, Grandma?"

She just smiled at me, and I felt like crying. I was losing my patience rapidly.

"It's quite all right, dear," Grandma said calmly. "There's nothing wrong with those children playing in our yard—"

I exploded. "You call those monsters 'children'? They were throwing stones at you, and you treated them nicely! Not my cup of tea!"

"I know," Grandma replied. Sometimes, I found it hard to understand her. She was impossible, and at times, unbearable. I could never comprehend the ways of old people. And now, I was stuck with one of them.

"Where are you going?" she asked as I headed to the kitchen.

"I'm getting something cold to cool my head," I snapped. "You stay in your chair, Grandma."

Grandma obediently nodded. She couldn't walk anymore, confined to a wheelchair for the past 17 years due to her illness and old age. There was no one left to care for her but me. My father had died a year ago, and my mother... she died because of my grandmother.

Returning to the living room with a sandwich and juice, I took pleasure in my grandmother's suffering. After all, she deserved it.

"You're angry with me," she said, staring at me through her silly spectacles. "You're angry with me because you didn't go out with your friends. You had to stay home to take care of me—"

"Oh, stop it, Grandma!" I slammed the glass down. "What do you want from me?" I shouted. "Tell me. What is it you want?"

"N-nothing, child," Grandma replied. "I'm sorry for being such a burden to you—"

"Shut up! I don't want to hear your excuses, Grandma," I yelled. At that moment, I lost control. "It's your nature to be a burden! My mother died because of you—"

It was out before I could stop it. How stupid and thoughtless I had been!

"I didn't want it to happen," Grandma explained. "Your mother took care of me, even though she was sick. I'm sorry for being a burden to you too..."

That was the farthest I could get. The expression on my Grandma’s face was one I’d never seen in my fifteen years of life. The pain was deeply etched on her wrinkled face, and I knew I’d gone too far. Something twinkled in her eyes.  Tears.  Then, I felt something come into my eyes, too.

"You're angry with those children because they threw stones at me. But how do you think I feel every time you throw hurtful words? I'm already miserable in this old age, and my illness feels like death. I'm sorry, child. I'll try not to be a burden—"

Grandma shook her head tearfully. "I guess this is what one feels when one is no longer a child..."

Something cold washed over me. I wanted to embrace Grandma and tell her I do care about her. I do love her!

"I love you, Grandma," I said, burying my head on her shoulder. "Please forgive me—"

Grandma didn't say anything, but she kissed my cheek. At that moment, the burden lifted from my chest. I knew she had forgiven me. I realized how cruel and unjust I had been to Grandma. I had blamed her for my mother's death when it wasn't her fault.

“I love you too, dear,” she whispered. She put an arm around me, and I laid my head on her shoulder. Together, we watched from the window as the sun hid behind the clouds. For me, I was just beginning to see the light. And that was it.