Collecting memories, the circle of life, and stamps.

In these past few posts, I’ve revealed a lot of small things about myself. Day one readers know that I am very close to my family and that I grew up very close to all four of my grandparents. They also know how much my home and city mean to me. And they know that I collect stamps. 

A week ago, my maternal grandfather or Nana as I call him, had a stroke that left him partially paralyzed. As you can imagine, this wasn’t easy for me. I have already expressed my feelings about being so far away from everyone and a large part of this is about being on the other side of the world in times like this. Growing up you always look at your grandparents as invincible. They’ve lived longer than anyone else you know and they know so much about so many things. They tell all the best stories and when you’re around them all you feel is love. It’s a special bond and yet again I can’t express how blessed I am to have had this kind of relationship with every one of my grandparents. Since coming to college, I only get to see my grandparents in four month increments. Every time I go back it always feels a little different and naturally so. They’re aging, their bodies are slowing down. It’s just tough seeing it happen in chunks. I don’t get to be there for a lot of moments, good and bad and that hurts. It makes everything seem all the more real. I know that everything must eventually end. I just don’t think I’ll ever be ready. I don’t think anyone ever is.

Everyone says this, but my Nana is one of the greatest men I know. He’s kind and gentle and loving and the reason I love the things I love today. He owned and operated a toy company until his retirement, which is already any kid’s dream. He always had the best jokes and I always loved listening to his stories, whether it was about how he fell in love or his school days in a pre-independence India. More than that, he’s passionate. There was a twinkle in his eye when he spoke about the things he loved and, among other things, he is the reason I started collecting stamps.

I have spoken about my fascination with collections before. Stamps, according to me, are some of the easiest and coolest things to collect. Yet, what was all the more spectacular about my stamp collection, was the collection of memories that came with it. Some of my favorite days were spent with my Nana at the Central Post office in our city checking out new collections and buying stamps. These memories will live with me forever. Spectacular times, with a spectacular man, finding the spectacular in something most people think is boring.

The day I found out about what happened to my Nana, I was at one of my favorite bookstores downtown. There, on the shelves of the kid’s section, I found a book entitled ‘Hope.’ It was a beautifully drawn children’s book from the perspective of grandparent lions talking to a newborn cub. It explored love and legacy, and the circle of life, and it was a very emotional day for me to find it. One of the main things in the book was about how our ancestors will always live in us, as we will always be a part of them. I genuinely believe this is true. Fortunately my Nana is on the road to recovery right now, but whatever happens in the years ahead, my family will always be a part of me, and I will always be a part of them. A part of me I will never be able to erase.  A light that will continue to glow, a torch that I will pass on. 

The pin I am showing you today is one of the more unique ones I own. For starters, it’s wooden. It was laser cut and hand-painted by a art collective based in Northern India and it’s entirely unique. It has it’s own blemishes and stains that no other pin will ever have. I love the colors and the icon of the Lion Capital of Ashoka (the official emblem of India). It says “Jai Hind” on the top in Hindi, and most obviously, it is shaped like stamp. It is sold by Say it with a pin, a very cool division of the 2626 creative studio. I wear this pin in honor of a great man. While I may have many collections, the most important things I will ever collect are the memories I make with the people I love. When I was younger, I used to wear my Nana’s kolhapuri chappals and walk around his room. Obviously, my tiny feet were far to small to actually fit into his slippers. Today, at 20, I’m much, much bigger. Still, size doesn’t matter; I will always feel like that tiny little kid, trying to fill the shoes of the great man who came before me.