One of my favorite memories of Didi dadi is from the summer of my freshman year when I was doing an internship across the street from her apartment. Didi dadi isn’t my dad’s mom — she’s my grandfather’s sister, which feels irrelevant since I still call her “dadi,” the Urdu word for grandmother. For me, Didi dadi exemplified what it means to be selfless, to love without reservation and to value hard work and education above all else. I am running, running, running, because in this COVID-19 world where there is more grief than I’ve ever experienced, there is no time or space to grieve without so many of the support systems and coping mechanisms I took for granted. Yesterday, it was skipping my night class to call a friend from home, although I don’t think Didi would be very happy about that.

Source: Daily Sun September 28, 2020 02:37 UTC