My Grandpa’s Grave

Today my grandma asked me to take her to my grandpa’s grave, it was the first time i visited since the funeral in 2005. It might sound strange writing about this here, but doing this kind of things is my main reason to spend a month of my time off in Bulgaria. Reconnecting by doing things I am never here to do as a daughter, grandchild or friend. Recording grandma’s recipes, reordering the bathroom’s shelves to help mum, and helping my nephew with his math exams, that’s the kind of stuff you miss doing when you’re aboroad too, not just eating ur fav foods, or dancing in ur fav club, that‘s the stuff really.

In the Bulgarian tradition, you visit the graves of close people on many special holidays during the year, to pay respects, tell them they are not forgotten, and talk to them.  You light a candle, clean up the area from weeds or trash, you bring them flowers,  food to eat, their favourite drinks to drink, and you leave them spoon, fork and knife, so they can eat the food properly.  Now it’s May, so my grandma specially brought fresh spring cherries, and some of the food we had at home.

I thought going there won’t get me upset, as I never got the chance to get to know my grandpa well, however, I couldn’t not start crying when my granny caressed his picture on the memorial stone, and spoke to him, “my honey, I came to see you“. We cleaned all the area around the grave from grass, because “he hates wild grass around the benches where we sit to rest or eat” and she was upset for forgetting to “bring to him wine”. A life spent together, what a love story! I wonder if we have the same dedication to each other in our own relationships and really, is that good or bad?


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