Last Monday, my yaya had a stroke. Like the trooper that she is, with half of her body paralyzed, she fought hard not to be brought to the hospital. By the end of the night, she had full mobility, though under express orders not to sit up or get out of bed. But all was not well.
It's been almost a week now. My yaya is strong and will be coming out of the hospital soon. But she can't talk or holler or laugh the way she used to. She takes longer to express her thoughts; her rough, loud way of speaking replaced by a gentle, mild mannered tone.
She is still my yaya and I love her with all my heart, but she's changed and I miss her all the same. Here's the part they failed to point out about growing up, it means the people you hold dear will grow old.
It's been almost a week now. My yaya is strong and will be coming out of the hospital soon. But she can't talk or holler or laugh the way she used to. She takes longer to express her thoughts; her rough, loud way of speaking replaced by a gentle, mild mannered tone.
She is still my yaya and I love her with all my heart, but she's changed and I miss her all the same. Here's the part they failed to point out about growing up, it means the people you hold dear will grow old.
